


I Will Kiss You Soft So You Know

by ragingrainbow



Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Alpha Scott Hoying, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, In Public, Love Bites, M/M, Mating, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Mitch Grassi, Oral Sex, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Rutting, Self-Lubrication, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2018-09-20 01:59:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9470399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragingrainbow/pseuds/ragingrainbow
Summary: Scott is Mitch's alpha even though Scott's not actually Mitch's alpha.Mitch has never seriously entertained the idea of being mated to anyone.Things are about to change.





	1. Heat

**Author's Note:**

> Title from [Oh, It Is Love by Hellogoodbye](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ry_l-DdYwyo).
> 
> Fair warning: This is an unfinished WIP. I have the whole fic planned out, so it will get finished, but I can't make any promises as to how often I will post new chapters.
> 
> Betad by silentdescant. 
> 
> Crossposted to [Wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/story/97585467-i-will-kiss-you-soft-so-you-know).

They’re cuddled up on a hotel bed watching Spongebob when it happens. Mitch is feeling more relaxed than he has all week - as if Scott’s mere presence is satisfying some strange, unidentifiable itch deep in his bones - and at first he doesn’t process Scott’s question. When he does, he has to make sure he actually heard correctly. 

“ _What_?” 

Scott’s hand stills, and Mitch immediately misses the way it had been rubbing lazy circles into his hip. Scott is tense now, Mitch can feel it in the air around them even if Scott’s making a valiant effort not to show it. 

“It’s just… you smell… different. And we’ve been busy. I thought maybe you forgot your shot? I almost did, until Esther reminded me.”

Scott’s voice is so gentle, as if he’s attempting to lull Mitch into security so he won’t freak out. He’s back to rubbing Mitch’s hip. It’s a little excessive, since there is nothing for Mitch to freak out about. He definitely hasn’t forgotten his shot because unlike Scott he can’t afford to - especially with how he’s more or less the face of the omega rights movement these days. 

“Seriously? You think I would just _forget_ to--”

“No!” Scott says, a little too quickly to be convincing. He must realize, because he winces. “I didn’t mean it like that.” He lowers his voice again, all calm and steady and so very alpha that Mitch wants to curl up in his arms forever. “Mitchy, I’m sure.” 

Mitch is super sure he hasn’t forgotten, but - oh _shit_. 

“Don’t panic,” Scott says, moving his hand from Mitch’s hip to his cheek. 

“I’m not,” Mitch insists, more to convince himself than as a response to Scott. Because he _is_ panicking - despite Scott’s best efforts - remembering the club last week and the alpha who was very obviously going into rut. He’d had an omega of his own and hadn’t paid Mitch any attention at all, so Mitch hadn’t thought much of it but-- they all know that suppressants have a certain rate of failure, especially so for unmated omegas who encounter an alpha in rut. And Mitch is definitely more susceptible, considering the amount of time he spends around an unmated alpha. Just the fact that they have managed to go this long without incident is defying the odds. 

“Breathe, sweetheart,” Scott’s saying now, his hand warm and gentle against Mitch’s cheek. “We have time, we’ll figure it out, just breathe with me.” 

Scott’s calm and steady and _alpha_ , so Mitch allows himself to follow instincts for once - buries his face against Scott’s chest and concentrates on just breathing. 

\---

While Scott’s constant presence is most likely the reason for the onset of Mitch’s heat, he can’t be too mad about it since it also helps delay it for a few days. Mitch knows it’s risky, knows that his body is just waiting for the ever-present alpha to start his rut, knows that there’s a high risk that alpha suppressants won’t stand much of a chance against omega pheromones. Scott knows that as well though, they _all_ know the risks and yet no one is trying to separate them. They need him functional, need him to get through just three days of shows, then they have two days off and if they can just time this right no one needs to know. Well, no one who will judge him for it, at least. 

Mitch hates the mood swings of the upcoming heat the most. Sure, he can be short on patience on the best of days, but this is something else altogether, feels like he’s constantly somewhere in between crying his eyes out or throwing a tantrum. The only thing that seems to help is Scott’s scent, and he borrows an over-large sweatshirt of Scott’s to wear on stage. The fans probably go crazy for that, but he’s avoiding social media for the moment and Scott doesn’t mention it. He’s sure they’ll be laughing about it together once this ordeal is over.

He realizes during those few days teetering on the verge of heat how much Scott is his alpha even though Scott’s not actually _his alpha_. It’s been easy to brush it off before - Scott’s literally _everyone’s_ alpha on tour (everyone’s sort of bemusedly accepted Scott’s attempts at making them all his pack, even though packs have not been a thing for hundreds of years). Besides, they were already best friends before either of them presented, and even if they have joked about mating it’s never been something they seriously considered. 

He’s starting to think maybe they should. Consider it, at least. But he also feels like it’s a conversation to have at a time when his brain is not addled by hormones, so he doesn’t bring it up, for now. 

\---

Mitch and Scott have to be separated the evening before their days off. The timing should be perfect - Mitch’s heat has already been staved off for long enough that it should hit quickly, and hopefully it’ll be over fast enough to give him almost a full day’s rest before they have to be up early for an interview. 

Kirstie stays with him. Mitch would prefer to be alone in his misery, but Scott put all his alpha influence into making sure he wouldn’t be, so naturally no one had dared side with Mitch during that argument. Scott’s never actually shown much sign of having that famed alpha temper, but they still prefer not to cross him, especially where Mitch is concerned. Even if they’re not mated, everyone close to them knows Mitch is Scott’s omega, even if he’s not actually _Scott’s omega_. 

Kirstie is on the couch, doing things on her phone, because she’d caught on pretty quickly that Mitch is in no mood for talking. Mitch is on the bed, doing nothing much because he can’t seem to focus on anything. He’s wearing one of Scott’s largest sweatshirts. Scott had insisted, had made sure Mitch was draped in it before he left. Definitely an alpha thing. Mitch _did_ notice the flash of heat in Scott’s eyes as he put it on, even if they both pretended it wasn’t there.

Mitch lets the sleeves of the sweatshirt fall down over his hands, folds his arms over his knees and buries his face in them. Takes a deep breath, then another one. Heat is creeping over him like a fever, he feels chilly and hot all at once, and he can’t help the whimper that escapes him. 

Kirstie is already on the bed beside him - he didn’t even notice her moving, too focused on calm breaths - rubbing his back with a tentative hand. Her touch feels cool, even through the sweatshirt. She’s too small, and too soft, and so very opposite of alpha, but somehow her presence is still enough to steady Mitch just a little. She kisses his temple when he leans against her. 

“Is there anything I can do?” she asks, and her voice is so gentle. 

He shakes his head, pressing closer to assure her that cuddles are good. For now. Mitch wonders if Kirstie has ever been through this before - it’s not unusual for young betas in a family to help see young omegas through first heat, so she might have - they’ve never talked about it and he doesn't ask about it now. She’s here, _Scott wanted her here_ , that’s all that matters. 

Kirstie keeps rubbing his back as breathing gets more difficult, as he shudders, and cries, and loses track of everything but the yearning. She’s talking to him-- softly, softly-- and he can no longer make sense of words but it’s still comforting, especially once his body starts giving into exhaustion. Sleep is a welcome relief, even if he knows it won’t last long. 

\--- 

Kirstie is talking quietly to someone at the door when Mitch wakes up again. His mind is a little clearer right now, and he tries to hear what she’s saying or who she’s talking to, but they’re keeping their voices too low for him to guess. He wonders if they don’t want him to hear, or simply don’t want to wake him. 

He forgets to worry about it a moment later, when she closes the door and comes toward him with two Starbuck’s cups. She spots him awake and smiles at him. 

“How are you feeling?” And then, after a moment’s hesitation, she holds out an iced coffee for him. “Scott got this for you.” 

He manages a shaky smile as he takes it. “Better, for now. Thanks.” 

The heat is intensifying again, but the cup is cold in his hands, the coolness spreading throughout his body when he drinks. It’s the best iced coffee he’s ever had. _Scott got it for him._ Scott’s taking care of him, as much as he can when he can’t actually be here. He wants Scott to be here. 

The thought spreads through his body like a physical stimuli - constricting and painful. He gasps, and the cup almost falls from his hands as a shudder wracks him. Kirstie is quick, however, and gently pries the cup from his hands. She sets it on table and urges him to lie down, pets him and talks to him. She’s calm and wonderful but she’s _not Scott._

“Need Scott,” he manages to gasp in between shudders. He’s in actual real pain now; he’s hated the few heats he’s been through, but they’ve never been _painful_.

“I know,” Kirstie soothes, still petting him. “I know, you’re okay, Mitch, just breathe, you’re okay.” She’s doing everything right but it’s not going to be enough. 

“No,” Mitch protests, rolling away from her touch. “No, no, _please_.” 

Kirstie stills. Mitch has his face half mashed into a pillow now, so he can only see her with one eye, but she almost looks like she’s in pain, too. 

“Mitch,” she says, reaching out for him again, getting him to roll over. “Mitch, look at me, are you sure?”

All he manages is a small nod and another wretched _please_. He can’t even be embarrassed about it, because he’s too busy being relieved that she’s actually listening. 

“Alright. I’ll go talk to Scott, okay?” She fusses over him for a few moments before she goes - he doesn’t protest her hesitation, because even his dazed mind he recognizes the weight of what he’s asking. 

Everything feels weird once he’s alone - Kirstie’s presence had definitely taken the edge off everything. He burrows in under the covers and closes his eyes because everything just feels too bright and _too much_. It feels like he’s alone for a long, long time. He’s suddenly convinced that Scott won’t come, that Scott has abandoned him. He curls up as much as he can, and tries desperately to gasp for breath through his panic. His lungs burn and his head is spinning and it’s too dark under the covers but too bright in the room. He needs the safety of someone telling him what to do, but he’s so very alone. 

Scott’s suddenly there, his scent registering moments before he pulls the covers from Mitch’s face. Mitch reflexively keeps his eyes shut until he realizes Scott’s dimmed the lights for him. Scott’s eyes are worried when Mitch looks up at him. He reaches out to brush tears from Mitch’s cheeks. 

“I need-,” Mitch whimpers, “hurts-- need--” 

Scott hushes him, kisses him much too gently for an alpha who has an omega in heat offering themselves up to him. For a few panicked moments Mitch is sure Scott is going to leave him again. He clutches at him, tries to beg him to stay, but all he manages is whining. 

“Shhh, I know, Mitch, I _know_. Not leaving unless you want me to.” Scott lifts him onto his lap, where he can be wrapped in Scott’s arms, and it feels good and safe and not at all enough.

It takes a while, but eventually Mitch’s breathing is almost back to normal, the pain subsided enough for him to form coherent thoughts. He knows one thing with clarity - he’s a fertile omega who should be desperate for any alpha but really only wants Scott. And Scott’s an unmated alpha, yet he’s sitting here rocking an omega in heat as if his instincts aren’t screaming at him to claim Mitch at any cost. Mitch will never be safer than he is with Scott. 

“I need you,” Mitch tries again, calmer now, as rational as he will ever get with the fever of heat coursing through him. They should talk about this, but they can’t because this is only a brief respite. They can talk later. Scott’s not in rut so there should be no permanent consequences to anything they do tonight. 

“I know,” Scott replies. His tone of voice says that he knows exactly how much weight there is behind Mitch’s words. “I’ll take care of you.” 

There’s a beat of hesitation before Scott kisses him, and there’s nothing gentle about it this time. It’s hard and demanding and so obviously claiming that Mitch is helpless to do anything but yield to him. Scott gets his hands under the sweatshirt, settles one hand on Mitch’s hip to hold him steady and cups his ass with the other. 

“Fuck yes,” Mitch breathes, as arousal hits him harder than ever. He doesn’t try to fight it, he’s _safe_ with Scott, safe enough to just let himself feel. 

Scott moves his hand, circles his hole with a tentative finger before slipping the tip in. It’s dry and a little painful, but it gives Mitch something to focus on through the haze, so he doesn’t complain. 

Scott fingerfucks him like that for a moment - with just one finger. It’s nice but nowhere near enough. Mitch grinds back against his hand and the angle changes enough for Scott’s finger to brush against his prostate and he shudders with sensation and-- oh. Everything is suddenly _much_ slicker. 

Scott makes a low rumbling noise which sends arousal skittering through Mitch. Another finger joins the first, then a third, and Mitch arches so far back that he almost falls off Scott’s lap. 

“Oh my God,” Scott gasps, mouthing at the tattoo over Mitch’s collarbone. “Need to be in you.” 

“Scott-- fuck-- _please_.” Mitch hardly recognises his own voice, he sounds so completely wrecked. 

Scott slides Mitch off his lap and pushes him onto the bed. It feels like Mitch’s world realigns when Scott hovers over him, and Mitch lets his legs fall open in invitation. The look on Scott’s face is complicated, but he’s smiling and Mitch can read tenderness in his eyes. 

Scott caresses his cheek, and Mitch is okay with slow for the moment - the worst of the desperation eased now that he is trapped beneath Scott’s weight. 

“Are you really sure?” Scott asks, voice barely above a whisper.

Mitch’s heart lurches with the knowledge that even now, nestled in between Mitch’s legs, Scott would defy primal instincts and stop if Mitch asked him to. He can’t respond for a moment, overwhelmed by that fact, and he wonders how he ever got this lucky. But then the heat makes itself known again, and he bucks up against Scott as need skitters along his spine. 

“Yes, yes, _come on_.” 

Scott’s wrist brushes against Mitch’s dick when he reaches down to position himself, and Mitch keens helplessly. Scott swears above him, fumbling a little as Mitch rocks his hips, and then the head of Scott’s dick pushes into him and-- 

It’s _perfect_. Mitch’s body already knows how to do this, and the way he arches up to meet Scott’s first few thrusts is pure instinct. Scott’s movements are slow, careful, and his face is pinched with concentration when Mitch looks up at him. Mitch tugs him down for a kiss, whining into it when Scott’s teeth graze his lips. 

“Fuck me harder,” Mitch urges as Scott breaks the kiss to mouth at Mitch’s neck. 

Scott makes a broken sound, but does as Mitch asked. His thrusts are much harsher now, driven by instinct, and he sucks a large bruise into Mitch’s neck when Mitch bares it for him. Mitch claws at Scott’s back, arches up against him and makes no effort to stop the desperate, pleading noises spilling from his lips. He whines when Scott pulls out completely; Scott just shushes him and hitches Mitch’s leg up so he can fuck into him at a better angle. He has more leverage now, and his thrusts are punishing enough that Mitch loses the ability to do anything but lie there and take it. He feels so utterly claimed, and the rightness of that makes it hard to breathe. He has a few moments of gasping and writhing before he realizes he’s actually coming, his release sticky and hot between them. 

“Oh my _God_ , Mitch, _Mitch_.” Scott’s voice breaks off on a whine, he’s rutting against Mitch in earnest now, and Mitch is way too sensitive after coming, but he claws at Scott’s back to urge him on anyway because he doesn’t want this to end. 

Scott kisses him as he comes, it’s uncoordinated and messy but so, so good. Mitch wishes for a fleeting moment that Scott was in rut, that his knot would swell and claim Mitch completely... They really need to have a talk. At some point when Mitch’s brain doesn’t feel like jello. 

Scott collapses beside him, one arm and a leg draped over Mitch’s body as if he just can’t bear to break contact. His eyes are closed and he’s still panting heavily through kiss-reddened lips. His hair is sticking to his forehead and his face is blushed with exertion and Mitch can’t remember him ever looking more beautiful. He’s not even sure he can blame that thought on hormones, because he feels tired but alert in a way he never does during heat. 

Scott opens his eyes when Mitch reaches out to touch his cheek. He smiles when their eyes meet, and reaches up to catch Mitch’s hand in his, brings it to his lips and hides a kiss in his palm. His eyes dart to Mitch’s neck - Mitch wants to see the mark, but he doesn’t want to move right now - and then back to Mitch’s eyes. 

“Okay?” There’s a flash of worry in his eyes, and Mitch hurries to chase it away. 

“Yes,” then, as he moves and feels come seeping out of his ass. “Disgusting though. Need a bath.” 

Scott huffs a laugh and rolls closer to him, buries his nose in the crook of Mitch’s shoulder and inhales an exaggerated breath. He instantly sobers as he does, his grip on Mitch tightening a little. 

“I like this,” he murmurs, almost too softly for Mitch to hear. “You smell like... mine.” 

“I am,” Mitch responds, with conviction. They’ve joked about this before, many times, but this time he means it. 

Scott pulls back a little so he can look at Mitch properly again. He looks-- hopeful. “Yeah?” 

“Yes. Now go run me a bath.” 

Scott laughs and smacks Mitch’s hip before he moves to get off the bed. Mitch is happy to just lie there for a while, contentment washing over him in waves as he listens to Scott humming to himself in the bathroom. He’s never seriously entertained the idea of being mated before - he hates the way it’s a mark of ownership even with recent wins for the omega-rights movement - but he’s also never considered what it would be like to be mated to Scott. He knows at this moment he’d be powerless to reject Scott if Scott wanted to claim him for real, and he also knows that Scott won’t take advantage of that fact. He reaches up to press fingertips to the bruise on his throat; it’s tender and sends an unexpected jolt of pleasure through him. He closes his eyes and does it again.

When he opens his eyes Scott is leaning against the doorway to the bathroom. His gaze is heated, and his hands are restless as if they want to be touching Mitch. Mitch wants them to be doing that, so he gets off the bed and walks over to where Scott is standing. Scott’s hands immediately settle on his hips, thumbs caressing his skin. He leans down to kiss Mitch, but there is no force to it, inviting Mitch to take control of the kiss. Mitch lets it be soft and lazy but full of tongue - the kind of kiss he likes best. 

Scott’s the one who pulls away first, and his eyes are dark with arousal when Mitch looks up at him. Mitch shudders, and Scott instinctively pulls him a little closer. Heat spreads through Mitch from every point where their bodies touch, and for a few moments he wants nothing more than for Scott to take him again. For Scott to just press him up against the wall and _claim him_.

“Bath’s getting cold,” Scott says softly, stepping away to give him some distance as if he knows what’s going on in Mitch’s mind. He very well might know, Mitch realizes; he can probably smell the spike in Mitch’s arousal. That thought shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does. 

Scott helps Mitch into the bath - appreciated, as Mitch’s legs are slightly wobbly, even if he’d never admit it - and then leans against the counter. Mitch huffs impatiently at him. 

“Seriously? Get in here.” Mitch gestures to the free space in the bath, to highlight the fact that this fancy hotel tub is big enough for at least two people. 

Scott hesitates for a moment. “Are you sure?” he asks, and there is a flash of worry in his eyes. 

Mitch gets the distinct feeling that he wasn’t the only one fantasising about claiming just now. Scott has never before been hesitant about situations that involve cuddling Mitch. 

“Yes,” Mitch responds, “I need you to wash my back.” 

Scott’s laugh is sharp and surprised. His movements are unsure as he joins Mitch, but once he’s settled in the warm water most of the tension bleeds out of his limbs. Mitch picks up the little bottle of complimentary shower gel and starts to lather Scott’s chest and arms, and the rest of the tension disappears quickly under his touch. 

“Thought I was meant to wash you,” Scott says after a while. He’s starting to look drowsy and his words are slightly slurred. Strangely enough, Mitch feels completely awake and alert. 

“Maybe I changed my mind.” Mitch winks at him, and can’t stop himself from leaning in to kiss Scott’s sleepy smile. In doing so he bumps his thigh against Scott’s cock and the fact that Scott’s half hard sends a wave of fresh arousal through him. 

Mitch lets out a surprised moan as Scott pulls him even closer, and the kiss becomes heated. It’s followed by more kisses, and soon Mitch is quivering again. Mitch has never liked the idea of fucking in the bath, but he makes no protest when Scott rearranges Mitch on his lap even though Scott’s intent is clear. It’s partly the desperation of heat - even though the edge has been taken off there are still several hours left before its grip will release him completely - but mostly it’s just the fact that he _wants_ Scott to fuck him. In the bath or against the counter or on the floor or wherever Scott wants to do it, really. 

It’s slippery and awkward and doesn’t sway Mitch’s opinion on bath-fucking in the slightest. It’s also slow, and intense, and it feels so much more intimate than earlier. Mitch has full control of his mind this time, can read every emotion playing out across Scott’s face. He has to bury his face against the crook of Scott’s neck once Scott starts stroking him - it’s not the least bit good at this angle but it doesn’t matter because Mitch’s orgasm is fast approaching anyway. 

They get out of the bath quickly afterwards - Mitch’s main issue with sex in a bath is the fact that he finds the idea of bathing in jizz rather disgusting. Scott laughs at him when he points this out before he helps Mitch stand and wraps him in a luxurious bath sheet - and Mitch might seriously steal it, it’s so amazingly soft (and also a souvenir from his first time with Scott, he reasons). 

Mitch’s exhaustion doesn’t hit until they’re laying in bed again. He can still feel the lingering heat, but he also feels sated and calm and so very safe in Scott’s arms. Scott’s solid and warm at his back, and sleep creeps up on him quickly. 

He tries to talk anyway, if only to point out to Scott that they need to have an actual talk. 

“I know,” Scott murmurs, and brushes his lips against the nape of Mitch’s neck; not quite a kiss. “Sleep first.” 

Mitch doesn’t know if it’s the heat or the mating urge or the fact that there’s a touch of an alpha rumble in Scott’s voice, but his body reacts to the statement as if it’s a command and relaxes instantly. He can tell Scott notices from the way his breath stutters against Mitch’s neck. Mitch doesn’t mind though, and he drifts off to sleep before Scott can start apologizing. They _will_ talk about it. Tomorrow.


	2. Conversation

Mitch is disoriented when he wakes up. He’s too warm, and prevented from moving by an arm draped around his waist. It takes him several moments to remember that the person snoring softly next to him is _Scott_. 

Scott’s hold on Mitch tightens a little when Mitch wriggles around to face him; Mitch loves how cuddly Scott is, even in sleep. It’s one of those qualities that makes it hard for Mitch to reconcile Scott with what they learned about alphas in school. 

Mitch’s chest fills with warmth at how peaceful Scott looks - his lips curved into a small smile even in sleep. Mitch can’t resist reaching out to trace his fingers over that smile, knowing it’s for him. Scott barely stirs at the touch, safe and content enough to fall into deeper sleep than usual. Mitch feels fiercely protective looking at him. 

Mitch knows if they do this, if Scott officially becomes his alpha, there will be a publicity shitstorm heading their way. Scott’s already facing criticism for not keeping Mitch in line - he’d be well within his rights to, as long as Mitch remains unmated - traditionalists are not on board with Scott having nothing but praise for Mitch’s activism. Mitch doesn’t even want to imagine what they’ll throw at Scott when they can really consider it his duty to quell Mitch's “rebellion”. 

Mitch automatically soothes Scott by running gentle fingers through his hair. Scott sighs softly as his eyelashes flutter open. His face lights up when he looks at Mitch. 

“Hi.” Mitch traces his fingers along the lines of Scott’s face, feeling uncharacteristically shy around him, sort of like a teenager with a crush. 

“It’s way too early for you to look so serious,” Scott says, his smile softening further to show he’s teasing. His fingers wrap around Mitch’s wrist at the same time, and Mitch forgets everything but the warmth of Scott’s touch. 

Mitch makes no effort to control the way his body goes boneless at the contact, and Scott gasps in surprise. He pulls his hand away quickly, and looks so contrite that Mitch’s heart hurt a little. He rushes to reassure Scott before Scott can speak. 

“It’s alright. You can.” He tries to convey to Scott that he is giving permission for so much more than that simple touch. 

Scott hesitates for a few moments, and he looks like maybe he’s about to speak, but then he smiles and rolls them over to pin Mitch to the bed, so quickly that Mitch doesn’t even have time to react. Mitch’s whole body goes lax when Scott takes both his wrists in one hand and pins them above his head. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Scott says, quiet like it’s a big secret, his face betraying the fact that he can’t quite believe he gets to have Mitch like this. 

Mitch can’t quite believe it either. But he feels calm and peaceful with Scott’s weight pinning him down; it just feels _right_.

“We’ve been idiots,” he says, because it feels like they have wasted so many years being afraid of this.

Scott hums and kisses him, clearly not up for talking much first thing in the morning. Mitch isn’t either, really, but his brain won’t shut up. It’s a relief when Scott’s tongue pushes into his mouth, and Scott’s hips grind down into his, making it impossible to think of anything else. 

Scott keeps kissing him until Mitch’s whole body is thrumming with need. He knows it’s still partly the heat - not completely over, just waiting for Scott to go into rut so they can mate - but it’s also the fact that Scott’s the only person who’s ever touched him that Mitch trusts enough to just relax and enjoy it. 

“You’re so hot,” Scott murmurs, grinning into the next kiss when Mitch whines and arches up in search of friction. 

“Gonna take such good care of you,” Scott continues, still smiling, and Mitch knows he is not just talking about right now. 

Scott presses Mitch’s hands against the mattress before releasing him - an unspoken order for Mitch not to move - and Mitch interlaces his fingers to quell the temptation to reach out for Scott. He kisses his way down Mitch’s body so slowly that Mitch is helpless to do anything but shudder and whine and, eventually, beg. 

“Please, Scott, _please_.” He can barely get enough breath so it’s not more than a whisper, and he can no longer stop himself from reaching down to tangle his fingers in Scott’s hair. 

Scott hums in response, the tip of Mitch’s cock already in his mouth, and Mitch gasps and thrusts up against him. Scott doesn’t even attempt to hold him down, lets Mitch hold him by his hair and fuck into his mouth. Mitch has to close his eyes because the sight of Scott pliant between his legs almost makes him come on the spot. 

Mitch doesn’t last long despite his best efforts, and he pulls at Scott hair in a half-hearted attempt to warn him. Scott doesn’t pull off, choking a little when Mitch thrusts in deep as he comes. 

“C’mere,” Mitch murmurs a few moments later when he’s regained his breath, tugging at Scott’s hair. 

Scott lies down beside him, and Mitch instantly misses the reassuring weight of Scott’s body on top of his own. He presses closer and laces the fingers of his left hand with Scott’s instead. 

Scott has a smudge of come on his chin, and Mitch kisses him there to lick it off. Scott smiles at him, sated and calm like he’s the one who just had maybe the best orgasm of his life. He definitely isn’t, because he’s warm and hard against Mitch’s leg. 

“Want me to-?” Mitch asks, because he kind of wants to but Scott’s showing no inclination for getting off. 

“Nah,” Scott says, bringing their hands to his mouth to kiss the back of Mitch’s before his face turns serious. “Later. We really need to talk.” 

Mitch sighs, grabbing Scott’s hand a little tighter. He knows Scott’s right, but he also wants to curl into Scott’s side again and never get out of this hotel bed. He’s scared - not of Scott or of being mated to Scott, but of sharing what he and Scott have with the world.

Scott reaches out with his free hand to tame Mitch’s bangs. “How about you go have a shower, and I’ll order up some breakfast? We can eat on the balcony, view’s gorgeous.” 

Mitch hadn’t been in a state of mind to notice the view yesterday, but the idea of it is tempting. It’ll be good not to talk here in this room, even if they’re only moving out to the balcony. 

“Sure,” he agrees. “I want pancakes. And fruit.” 

He steals another kiss before he saunters off to the bathroom, feeling Scott’s gaze on him the whole time. 

\--

The view from the balcony really is amazing. The weather is warm too, which is good because Mitch is in the mood for lounging around in briefs and a large hoodie. Scott doesn’t protest when Mitch plops himself down on his lap - in fact he looks relieved, like he wanted Mitch close but was afraid to ask. 

The food is amazing too, or maybe that’s just the fact that Mitch hasn’t eaten for nearly twenty-four hours. They eat in silence, with Scott putting his fork down now and then to touch Mitch like he just can’t stop himself. Mitch feels a lot more ready for talking once he’s caffeinated and fed and satiated with Scott’s touches. 

“Do I still smell like I’m yours?” Mitch asks, pushing his plate away and pressing closer to Scott. He knows the answer already, but he needs to hear it. 

“Yes,” Scott says, quickly enough that it’s obvious he’s already thought about this. That fact sends a thrill up Mitch’s spine. 

“I have some masking lotion in my bag, if you want?” 

“No,” Mitch says decisively. “If we’re doing this, I don’t want to hide.”

Scott hums at that. He looks thoughtful, but he doesn’t say anything else for the moment. Mitch looks out over the sprawling city below them and waits Scott out. 

“I was thinking,” Scott starts, hesitating slightly, “we could maybe do an interview to come out? And a shoot, maybe with Luke? Something that could help omega rights?” 

Mitch’s too taken aback to answer for a moment. Scott’s never been as politically minded as Mitch - there was a time Mitch was frustrated by this, thinking it was easy for Scott to ignore the politics when they didn’t infringe on his own rights, but he’s come to realize that Scott’s silence is a statement in itself. Especially over the past few years, when their rise to fame meant more pressure on Scott to silence Mitch. But still, Mitch realizes that it’s quite a step for Scott to go from being supportive in the background, to (probably) proclaiming his support for Mitch’s cause on the cover of a magazine. 

But a photoshoot will be great. And Luke’s a good choice - he would be able to capture the instinctual Alpha/omega relationship with a generous helping of affection and vulnerability. Mitch can see it in his head, knows that they would see their faces on placards at protests. 

“Mitch? If you don’t- we don’t have to- maybe it wouldn’t be-” Scott sounds so unsure, and Mitch wriggles around in his lap to face him as he cuts him off. 

“No, sorry, it would be _great_.” He smiles, then sobers for a moment, rubbing Scott’s bare arm distractedly. “I just don’t- the supremacists would be out for your head.”

Perhaps - _hopefully_ \- not literally, but Mitch hates the idea of even more hate being flung Scott’s way. As much as he believes in omega rights - knows that Scott believes in it too, not least because he cares for Mitch - he selfishly wants to keep Scott and their relationship just for himself. 

“I know,” Scott says, and he is smiling. “I’d do anything for you, you know.” 

Mitch pauses for a moment, because Scott looks so sincere that he’s lost for words. 

“I would too,” he responds at length, “I’d give it all up if you asked me to.” It scares Mitch how true it is, and he knows it’s partly instinct to defer to his Alpha, but it’s not _only_ that. 

Scott touches Mitch’s chest, then his cheek. Rests his hand there, warm and comforting. “I know. I hope you know I would never ask you to do that.”

Mitch nods silently. He does know that; it’s the only reason he is sitting here with Scott like this, but it’s different to _hear_ it, to feel his heart constrict in response to the raw emotion on Scott’s face. 

Scott’s hand slips down to cup his chin before Scott kisses him, soft and chaste. Mitch fists his hand in Scott’s tank, doesn’t let go even when Scott stops kissing him. 

“Please,” Mitch begs, and for a moment he’s not even sure why, but then he realizes- “I want to taste you.”

They should talk more really, but they have the whole day off, so there is plenty of time. Right now, Mitch wants to show appreciation to his Alpha. 

“Go on,” Scott says, spreading his legs when Mitch slides down to his knees. 

Mitch leans forward to nuzzle Scott through his sweats first, savoring the musky smell and the way Scott’s breath hitches. 

Scott’s not wearing underwear, and Mitch pulls the sweats down just enough to get Scott’s dick out. He weighs Scott’s balls in one hand, stroking him to full hardness with the other. 

Mitch has a lot of experience when it comes to blowjobs - penetrative sex is risky for an unmated omega; even with a beta or fellow omega there’s always a risk of it setting off a heat, so Mitch has stuck to finding safe relief with friends. He puts that experience to use now, finding all Scott’s sensitive spots, wringing helpless moans and whines from him.  
Mitch glances up at Scott. He’s thrown one arm over his face in an attempt to stifle his own moans, the other resting on the top of Mitch’s head. He’s thrusting shallowly into Mitch’s mouth, obviously restraining himself from fucking in properly.

Mitch pulls off and says, “Just fuck my mouth, I want you to.” 

Scott makes a desperate, hurt noise before he does as Mitch asked, and Mitch relaxes his throat and jaw, lets his mind go blank to focus on nothing but Scott using him. 

Scott doesn’t warn him before coming, but Mitch knows he’s close from the way his cries become less restrained, so he’s ready for it anyway. He’s proud of his ability to swallow it all without choking. 

Scott pulls Mitch back into his lap after a few moments, kissing him before pulling him close and resting his head on top of Mitch’s. They just sit in silence for a while, and Mitch nods off, lulled by the safety of Scott’s arms and the aftermath of his heat. 

\---

“I want to do it the right way,” Scott says sometime after lunch when they’re laying on the bed with their laptops. 

“Huh?” Mitch says, looking up from the fanart of Scott and him kissing that he’d been showing Scott. “Kissing? I can safely say there’s nothing wrong with how you kiss.” 

Scott laughs and blushes; Mitch really loves how easy it is to make Scott blush. It takes a few moments for Scott to collect himself again, and Mitch puts his laptop away. Scott does the same before he clarifies. 

“The mating,” Scott says. “I don’t want to do it in a hotel room because we have to. I want us to do it at home where we can take our time.”

Mitch wants that too, but- “Three weeks? You want to go without sex for _three weeks_?”

Scott looks somewhat contrite, but still says “Yeah.”

Mitch purses his lips together. He likes the idea of getting to do it in their own home, but it will mean three weeks of them having to be extremely careful. And even if they are, there is no guarantee it will work; if Scott’s suppressants fail, Mitch’s heat will set in. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” Scott asks, reaching out to caress the back of Mitch’s hand. 

“Always,” Mitch responds automatically; they have been friends long enough for the question to be ridiculous. 

“I’ve been wanting this for… I don’t even know how long. I just- Please don’t be mad. I never thought it could happen and I’m so damn afraid of fucking this up. You have no idea.” 

Mitch does have some idea. He’s scared as well - on some level he recognizes he’s wanted this too, even as he has lived with the conviction of not wanting a mate. He’s worried about looking like a hypocrite, after being so vocal about not wanting - or needing - a mate. And most of all he’s afraid that they won’t be able to remain friends if this doesn’t work out. 

“No, I get it. We’ll wait.” 

Scott looks relieved, and Mitch snuggles closer to him, pouting when Scott doesn’t immediately facilitate cuddles because he’s busy reaching for his phone. Mitch forgives him a few moments later and poses as Scott snaps a couple of pictures. 

Mitch likes the shot where Scott kisses his head. It looks tender and- Mitch touches the hickey from last night as he realizes it’s clearly visible because he’s tipping his head back against Scott’s chest. 

“You should Instagram it,” Mitch says, turning around to face Scott again. 

Scott looks slightly skeptical. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Mitch responds, because he might be scared but he’s also sure of what he wants. 

“Okay,” he says, tapping at his phone and showing Mitch the post captioned ‘lazy day off’ - for approval before posting. 

The picture blows up in record time, and they amuse themselves for a while, reading comments and fan theories. It makes Mitch feel a little less scared, knowing they have thousands of people out there who will support them no matter what.


	3. Tulip

Mitch is restless. His suspended heat feels increasingly oppressive as the days tick by, making him short-tempered and emotional. It’s only made worse by the fact that he and Scott are trying to spend as much time as possible apart, not wanting to risk Scott going into rut whilst they’re still on tour. It’s not only their own choice anymore - Esther had, once she congratulated them on finally getting their heads outta their asses, made it very clear that she expects them to keep it in their pants until tour’s over. Mitch gets it; newly mated alphas are extremely territorial as a rule, which is unlikely to mix well with meet and greets and other tour obligations. Even if Scott’s generally good at defying instincts, it will be better if there is time for their bond to set properly when they have a few weeks where they can isolate themselves from the world. 

It’s difficult to be apart from Scott. They’re not used to this kind of forced separation - they barely spend time apart, and Scott’s always been an especially enthusiastic cuddler, a trait Mitch has always been happy to indulge. 

Luckily, their tour crew is fantastic, many of them more than willing to provide Mitch with cuddles in Scott’s absence. They’re all betas - there’s a strict “no alphas” rule because of Scott, and omegas aren’t generally available to work on tours. Mitch is definitely into the idea of sharing all these amazing people with another omega, though, so he is secretly hoping one will come along eventually. 

“Okay?” Nicole asks, breaking Mitch out of his thoughts. She’d stayed behind for him when most of the others went out to lunch - Mitch technically could have come, but he feels drained enough that it wasn’t tempting - and Mitch feels sort of guilty for being such lousy company. 

“Yeah, sorry,” he mumbles, twisting around a little so he can look up at her from where he’s sprawled with his head in her lap. 

“Oh, don’t start,” she says, swatting him gently on the arm. “Come on, up. Least you can do is let me beat that pretty face while you mope.” 

Mitch sits up, curling his legs under him. He watches Nicole as she gets everything ready - spreading makeup and brushes over the coffee table. There’s a thrill of anticipation low in his stomach; he’s always loved having his makeup done, a no-strings-attached way to let him feel the security of omega submissiveness. 

Nicole squints down at him before she starts applying the base. She doesn’t ask what Mitch would like, but she obviously has a plan, and Mitch is happy to just let her work. He doesn’t even miss having a mirror to follow the progress; it’s kind of exciting, like he’s in one of those makeover shows and there will be a big, glamorous reveal. Except there will be no one else around to see it, and that makes him kind of sad. 

“Don’t pout,” Nicole says, but she’s smiling and obviously teasing him. 

The restlessness bleeds out of Mitch as Nicole works, sponges and brushes soft on his skin as she turns his head this way and that. She’s not working as quickly as she does when they’re getting ready for shows and other band commitments - this feels more like she’s pampering him. He supposes she is; back when humans organized into packs, it was common for betas to take care of the omegas of the pack. There were even several known instances where omegas would choose betas to bring into their pack, where they would form friendships akin to bonds, without the alpha feeling threatened by it. 

“Do you think Scott’s pack instincts will get worse when we mate?” he asks, because she is one of very few people he feels comfortable discussing Scott with. 

She hums, obviously considering it before she gets him to close his eyes so she can apply shadow. He waits patiently for her reply. 

“If you mean that as in, will Scott enlist the help of betas to keep you cared for, I think signs point to yes?” she says, once she is done and he can open his eyes again. She taps his nose with the butt of the brush in her hand. “I feel like _your_ pack instincts are getting just as bad, for the record.” 

Mitch blushes. He knows she’s right, and he’s not really embarrassed about it, but he’s still not quite used to the longing that comes with recognizing these feelings. Not used to wanting to belong as strongly as this. 

Nicole pauses her work to pet his hair. “We all still think you’re strong, you know. Scott most of all. You know he respects that.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Mitch responds, somewhat surprised as he feels the bundle of nerves in his stomach unravel. He _did_ know, so he wasn’t quite prepared for how good it feels to have someone else say it. 

Nicole hums and gets back to work. She holds up a hand mirror for him when she’s done, and Mitch turns his head this way and that, pouting and posing. It’s more neutral than he expected - Nicole usually relishes any opportunity to experiment behind closed doors - but it does look great, his eyes lined with black and his lips a dark red. And he definitely loves the highlight. 

“She looks good,” he says eventually, grinning at Nicole over the mirror. 

“She does,” she agrees, smiling back at him, before putting the mirror down. “Hey, why don’t we get you into some nice clothes, take some photos?” 

Mitch doesn’t really need more pampering, feeling more relaxed than he has since this whole thing started (actually, he can pinpoint the last time he felt like this - it was the moments when he was snuggled in Scott’s arms, before Scott made him realize he was going into heat). But he feels like this might be a pack thing, like Nicole needs to do this for him, and he’s more than happy to indulge that. Besides, he does love getting glammed up and posing for a camera. He can send a few snaps to Scott, maybe convince him to hurry back. It’s only another three days left of tour anyway, Mitch feels like he should be able to blow Scott tonight without risking Esther’s wrath. 

Mitch dresses in wide black trousers and a dark red off-the-shoulder top he just bought the other day. He digs out his reflector-heels and puts them on before admiring the look in the mirror. He’s pleased with it, and he feels like Candice would approve of this outfit. 

He poses as Nicole snaps pictures, first on his phone then a couple of just his face on her own. She shares a picture on Instagram, and Mitch is kind of shocked when Scott likes it faster than he does. He sends a couple of full body shots to Scott, as a tease. 

There’s a knock on the door just after, and Mitch opens it up only to find Scott outside, looking considerably better dressed than he was when he left for lunch earlier. Mitch drops his gaze to appreciate this, and notices the single cream tulip Scott’s holding out for him. 

“Oh my God,” Mitch gasps, just as Scott asks him out for dinner for the evening. 

Mitch is too overwhelmed to answer for the moment. _Scott is actually courting him,_ and Mitch had not been prepared for this at all. Of course, courtship is no longer common practice, but Mitch knows the symbolism, understands that this is Scott promising to care for him _forever_.

“Of course,” Mitch manages to say, accepting the flower from Scott before turning to Nicole. “You were in on this?!” 

Nicole just winks at him before wishing them a good night and slipping out the door. 

“Ready? Got a car waiting.” Scott says, offering his arm to Mitch when Mitch nods. 

\--- 

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this,” Mitch says a while later, while they are poring over menus in a fancy restaurant. It feels weird being on an actual date with Scott; definitely good weird, though. 

Scott reaches across the table so they can hold hands, like they are in some sappy romcom.

“Hey, I told you I was going to do this properly. You deserve it.” 

Scott’s looking at Mitch like Mitch is his whole world, and Mitch can’t stop himself from leaning across the table, pulling Scott closer to kiss him. 

It’s quite an awkward kiss, with the table between them, and Mitch keeps it chaste, just a few quick brushes of his lips against Scott’s. Scott is smiling when Mitch pulls away, he looks awed and happy, and Mitch’s stomach flips with the knowledge that it’s all for him. 

The moment is interrupted by the waiter. Mitch watches Scott as he discusses wine choices with the waiter; he’s always loved watching Scott talk to others, he projects such an air of confidence. Mitch knows it’s partly for show - Scott can be a lot more insecure than that natural alpha authoritativeness lets on.

Scott reaches over to take Mitch’s hand again once the waiter leaves, absentmindedly rubbing the back of Mitch’s hand with his thumb. For a moment, they just sit in silence. Mitch watches the other couples in the restaurant; he can easily pick out a few alphas with their omegas. None of them have anything akin to the look of adoration currently on Scott’s face. Mitch knows he’s lucky, and he appreciates how Scott wants to please him just as much as he instinctively wants to please Scott. But no matter how much Mitch loves and trusts Scott, he can’t help but worry about how being mated may change them. 

“Talk to me,” Scott murmurs, looking over at the same couple Mitch’s gaze has fallen on. The omega looks cowed, the alpha has barely spared her a glance in the few minutes since Mitch spotted them. 

“Do you think it will be different? Once we’re mated?” Mitch’s voice is quiet - these are fears he has been afraid of voicing, as if saying them out loud might make them actualize. 

Scott’s thoughtful when Mitch looks back at him, obviously considering Mitch’s question and his own answer. 

“I don’t know,” he says at length, looking sorrowful for a moment. “I do know that very few alpha/omega couples start off with as much love and respect as we have for each other. You know that too, few alphas believe an omega partner is their equal before they ever mate.”

Mitch swallows back the lump that’s forming in his throat. He bites his lip as a distraction, and Scott reaches out to brush his thumb over the spot. 

“I want you to be happy, Mitch. I love you. I can’t see how mating is possibly going to change that. I can’t promise I won’t be a territorial ass though.” Scott smiles, obviously teasing now, steering them back towards conversation that is a lot more comfortable in public. Mitch would rather save the fears and crying until they are alone, and Scott knows that. 

“I love you, too,” Mitch responds, smiling back at him. “Even when you are a territorial ass.” 

They spend the rest of dinner chit-chatting about less hazardous topics. And playing footsie under the table while Scott smirks at Mitch in a way that doesn’t let Mitch forget that Scott will soon be his alpha. 

\---

“I’m scared too, you know,” Scott says later, when they’re snuggled up in bed in a dark hotel room. He’s tracing patterns on Mitch’s back with one hand, the other arm flung lightly over Mitch’s waist. 

“Yeah?” Mitch says, jolting back to wakefulness from the pleasant sleepiness he had been drifting into. 

“Yeah. I just… I’ve only been through two ruts. I don’t remember much of them.” He pauses, and when he continues his tone is much quieter. “I’m just really afraid of losing control. I could hurt you without meaning to.” 

It’s taking a lot for Scott to admit this, Mitch knows. The past couple of weeks he’s been so calm, he’s obviously known Mitch was worried and even if he hasn’t pushed for information, he’s been there for Mitch as much as he’s been able to. He’s made sure Mitch has company and is cared for. He’s obviously not spared much thought for himself. 

Mitch wriggles around to face him. He takes one of Scott’s hands, interlaces his fingers with Scott’s. Scott is trembling, and Mitch strokes his arm with his free hand. 

“You won’t,” Mitch says. This hasn’t even occurred to him to worry about, despite the fact that it’s not uncommon for rutting alphas to injure their omega. 

Scott hums in response, but Mitch can tell he’s not convinced. 

“Scott. _You won’t._ I don’t believe ruts make alphas completely different people. It’s just a convenient myth that means abusers can walk free.”

Scott sighs, and pulls Mitch closer with one arm. He kisses the top of Mitch’s head. He doesn’t say anything else, but Mitch can tell he’s less worried now.

Mitch tips his head up for a few soft kisses before he turns his face in against Scott’s neck. Scott’s scent is changing, his body obviously priming him for mating, and Mitch can feel himself getting hard in response. 

“Want me to take care of that for you?” Scott murmurs. He sounds sleepy and content. 

Mitch considers it, but shakes his head. He doesn’t want a hurried handjob; he’d rather wait until he can actually get fucked. 

It’s just three more days, Mitch reminds himself, before drifting into content sleep.


	4. Rut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for this chapter taking so long, RL got in the way I'm afraid. Next chapter is half written, so should be a lot quicker. Thanks for all the lovely comments so far!

It’s the last day of tour. Scott normally hates the thought of going back home; even though he lives with Mitch, the first week back always feels too quiet and lonely. He loves the hustle and bustle of tour life, loves always having people around. Loves when he has his pack all together. 

This time, however, Scott can barely wait for the day to be over. His instincts are screaming at him to claim Mitch, to keep Mitch close all the time and not let anyone else touch him. Even letting the betas touch him takes a lot of self control, and Scott hovers close as Mitch gets his hair and makeup done. 

Mitch bears it well. Scott supposes that is partly instinct kicking in for Mitch too - Scott can smell his heat coming on. But despite instincts he knows this must be taxing for Mitch, who has spent so many years fostering his image of being an independent omega. Scott thought he could offer him that, thought he had enough control to let Mitch be as free as he needs to be, but his possessiveness the past couple of days is making him doubt himself. 

“I’m sorry for being like this,” Scott murmurs into Mitch’s hair as they’re snuggled up on a couch in the dressing room. He’s probably ruining Nicole’s work, but he can’t seem to stop himself from rubbing his nose against the top of Mitch’s head. 

“Don’t be,” Mitch says, voice muffled against Scott’s chest. “I like it.”

Scott pulls back a little so he can look Mitch in the eye. He doesn’t think Mitch is lying, exactly, but it’s also a confession that’s difficult to reconcile with the Mitch he knows. 

“Really?” Scott asks, eyes searching Mitch’s face. 

“Yeah. It makes me feel… safe.” Mitch smiles softly, gaze never wavering from Scott’s. 

Scott smiles back - he’s always been helpless in the face of Mitch’s smiles - before dipping down to kiss Mitch. Conscious of the fact that they aren’t quite alone, he keeps the kisses light, bringing his hand up to caress Mitch’s cheek with his thumb. 

“I love you,” Scott murmurs as he pulls away. 

Mitch doesn’t respond verbally; he doesn’t have to, because Scott can read it in his eyes and in the gentle curve of his lips. As an omega, Mitch can’t afford to be as open with strangers as Scott is; and Scott is often taken aback by how soft Mitch can be in private. He feels the weight of responsibility that comes with knowing that welcoming warmth in Mitch’s eyes is only for him. 

He wants to say more, wants to maybe hear more reassurances from Mitch, but they’re getting called on stage so it will have to wait until later. 

\---

They’re not even halfway through the show when Scott starts to feel weird. It hits him suddenly - one second he’s singing, the next he’s forgetting the words. He’s distracted by the lights and the noise of the crowd; things he’s used to, things that normally make the stage feel like home. He stumbles and catches Mitch shooting him alarmed glances from across the stage. 

He manages to make it through another song, then it’s time for Kevin’s solo and he can duck backstage with the others. He’s trembling by now, and sweating more than usual, he feels overheated and dizzy and he honestly doesn’t know if he can keep it together for another hour. Even the clamour of people backstage seems too much right now. 

“Scott, hey, focus on me,” Mitch’s voice is quiet but stern, as he slides right into Scott’s space and presses a bottle of water into his shaking hands. 

Scott drinks greedily, reflexively holding onto Mitch with his free hand. Mitch leans into him, resting one hand flat on Scott’s stomach. Scott feels a little better, between the water and having Mitch close. 

“What’s wrong? Scott, are you sick?” 

Scott doesn’t even have a chance to start answering Esther before Mitch does it for him. 

“He’s in rut.” 

Oh. _Oh_. Scott feels dumb for not even realizing. 

“Great,” Esther says, pinching the bridge of her nose. Scott honestly feels bad, they’ve tried to be so careful to avoid setting this of early, and now it’s happening at the very worst time. 

“Can you go back on? We’ll figure it out if not, just be honest with me, Scott.” 

Scott hesitates. He _wants_ to go back on, but whether it’s actually a good idea is a different thing. Now that he knows what it is, it’s so much more focused and acute. He closes his eyes, draws a few slow breaths. All he can smell is Mitch. 

“I- I don’t know how much control I’ll have.” It’s the truth, and it’s scaring him. 

“He needs to be with me,” Mitch says, and Scott knows that’s true. He also knows the show can’t go on if they’re down two members. 

“No, I-” Scott starts to protest, but stops when Mitch fixes him with a stern look. 

“Don’t. I’m not letting you out of my sight, not like this.” 

Scott can smell Mitch’s distress despite the fact that he looks calm and together. He can also smell Mitch’s mounting arousal, like a gentle reminder that he’s not the only one suffering the effects of the sudden onset of his rut. He pulls Mitch a little closer, kisses his forehead as a silent apology. 

“You’re right, sorry.” He turns to Esther, “I have to try.”

Esther nods, obviously prepared for this to be the answer. 

“Okay. I’ll try to rebook your flight so you can go home tonight. And please just come backstage if it gets too much.” She pats Scott’s arm gently before she leaves them.

Kevin’s at the end of his solo, and they have to get back out. Mitch reaches up to pull Scott down for a quick kiss. His eyes search Scott’s face as they pull apart. 

“I trust you,” he says, gently. “Do whatever you need to, okay?” 

Scott’s heart swells. Mitch _must_ know that all Scott wants to do right now is to claim him - that the prospect of just doing so on stage in front of thousands of people is so tempting that Scott barely even trusts himself not to do it. 

But Mitch trusts him. And Scott’s going to be spending the rest of his life making damn sure that trust is not misplaced. _The rest of his life._ In spite of his hormone-addled brain, that thought still awes him. 

Mitch smiles at him and offers his hand for Scott to take. They walk back out on stage hand in hand, and it feels momentous, another not-quite-proclamation building up to the real thing. Scott beams with pride, the need of his rut secondary to his desire to tell the world how brave Mitch is, and how much he loves him. 

“Soon,” Mitch mouths to him as the song starts, as if he can literally read Scott’s thoughts. 

The rest of the show does go off without a hitch. They’re tight enough as a group that they adjust easily to Scott’s need to be close to Mitch; the fans sure love it whenever Scott touches him. Scott’s sure there are already a few hundred tweets about it, the rumour mill grinding at full speed. He can admit to himself that he likes the thought, that he wants people talking about Mitch being his. 

\---

The airport is feels too busy, although it’s close to midnight by the time they get there so it’s relatively quiet. Scott’s senses are on overload though, and everything feels like _too much_ , from the bright lights overhead, to the constant background buzz of so many people milling around, to the way his own clothes suddenly feel constricting and scratchy. 

Scott’s glad Esther insisted Austin come with them. Scott’d tried to refuse, only because he respects the lives of their crew and doesn’t want to be an inconvenience, but Esther had made it very clear that she was not risking them taking an almost 3 hour flight alone. With Scott in rut, it’s only a matter of hours before Mitch’s heat sets in, and Scott has to admit to himself that he will be powerless to control his instincts when it happens. It’s taking way more effort than he expected to control it even now - everything about Mitch is so inviting, even more so than usual. The only thing overriding his instinct to claim is the need for him to get Mitch somewhere safe and familiar. 

Scott is less than pleased when security subjects Mitch to a pat-down, but Austin is not afraid to get all up in Scott’s space to remind him where they are. Still, Scott keeps his fists clenched at his sides as he tracks every movement of the security person who currently has their hands on _his omega_. Mitch presses himself against Scott once he’s free to go, obviously as uncomfortable as Scott is about having a stranger touch him. Scott forces down the urge to run his hands all over Mitch right then and there to restake his claim, settling for resting a guiding hand at the small of Mitch’s back as they make their way to the gate. 

They get through boarding without further incident. Scott ushers Mitch into the window seat so Scott can be between him and any stranger who passes by, and he draws a sigh of relief once he sits down, finally able to relax. The plane isn’t full, and being a night flight it feels relatively quiet and private. Scott hopes he’ll be able to settle enough to nap through most of the flight; he doesn’t foresee a lot of sleeping happening once they get home. 

He does manage to relax once they are in the air. Mitch curls into his side, his constant, warm presence keeping the worst of Scott’s rut away, for now. Scott can smell Mitch’s heat coming on - his scent is sharper, with earthy undertones starting to overtake his natural essence. Scott rests his face against the top of Mitch’s head, breathing in that calming scent as he drifts off to sleep. 

Scott is disoriented when he wakes up. He’s far too warm - his clothes are damp with sweat - and there are too many strange smells and sounds around him. By the time Scott remembers where he is, he has accidentally jostled Mitch awake. 

“What’s wrong?” Mitch says, sounding sleepy and a little confused. Then he looks up at Scott, and instantly snaps to full awareness. 

Scott whines, because his full focus is on Mitch now, and he smells sweet and ripe and definitely right on the brink of heat. Need crashes through Scott, his arousal happening so fast it’s on the edge of painful. He needs Mitch, needs to undress him and take him and _claim him_ , needs to get Mitch on his knees and whimpering Scott’s name over and over. Needs to have Mitch covered in Scott’s scent and Scott’s marks and Scott’s _come_.

“Scott,” Mitch says gently, his eyes tracking the movement of Scott’s tongue as Scott licks his lips. “Listen to me, please. Not here, Scott. Not like this.” 

There’s the barest hint of panic in Mitch’s voice, and it sours his scent just enough for Scott to come back to reality. 

“Sorry,” Scott rasps, leaning back as much as he can to put an illusion of distance between them. He closes his eyes, concentrates on breathing and tries his best to ignore Mitch’s scent. 

“We have another hour and a half,” Mitch says, and Scott nods without opening his eyes. “Is there- can I help take the edge off?” 

Scott’s eyes snap open. There’s no panic left in Mitch now, he’s calm and sure and he obviously trusts Scott even though Scott’s control is slipping. 

“I don’t-” Scott starts, but then Mitch brushes his bangs out of his face with a practiced movement, and suddenly all Scott can focus on is the thought of that hand wrapped around his own cock. 

“I think mostly everyone else is sleeping,” Mitch says, pitching his voice low. “Austin definitely is.” 

Mitch indicates his head to the row behind them, and sure enough, when Scott looks over Austin is fast asleep. There is no one else close to them - Scott has a feeling Esther arranged it, probably without having to disclose too much information, because she sure knows how to pull strings. 

Mitch says nothing more, but he reaches out to place his hand flat against Scott’s chest, right above his heart. Scott can hear his own pulse racing in his ears, knows that Mitch must be feeling his heart beat frantically in his chest. It’s partly the fever of rut, but Scott would be lying if he said he didn’t want this, if he pretended like the thought of Mitch bringing him off right here doesn’t have arousal pooling low in his gut. 

Scott opens his mouth to give Mitch permission, but all he manages is a soft whimper. Mitch’s eyes are twinkling with a mix of adoration and playfulness, and Scott holds his breath as Mitch lets his hand slide down Scott’s chest and stomach, so, so slowly.

Scott bites his lip to stop himself from crying out in protest when Mitch pulls away as soon as his hand gets close to Scott’s cock. 

“Sorry, hang on,” Mitch says, reaching for his coat. He places it across Scott’s lap, dipping his hand underneath it and arranging it so it covers enough of them that it’s not obvious what they’re doing. 

“If anyone comes by, just pretend to be asleep,” Mitch says, before he settles in closer to Scott, his head resting against Scott’s arm. 

Scott isn’t sure he will be able to do a very convincing job of feigning sleep; his breath is hitching and his hips are impatiently jerking, and Scott has little control over either. But he makes an affirmative sound before he turns his head so he can kiss Mitch’s temple. With any luck, Mitch will get on with it, and they’ll be done before anyone walks past. 

Mitch does get on with it, spitting in his hand before dipping it into Scott’s sweatpants - the only trousers loose enough that Scott could tolerate them in his over-sensitized state - and wrapping sure fingers around Scott’s dick. He knows Scott so well already, knows how hard he likes it, how fast to stroke, when to flick his wrist, when to let his thumb brush across the head of Scott’s dick. Scott has to press his own hand over his mouth to stop all the noises threatening to break free - Mitch’s intention is obviously to get him off fast, and Scott’s so on board with that, but it does make it difficult to focus on anything but the devastating pleasure. 

Scott’s orgasm is sudden, crashing over him with a force that takes his breath away for a moment. He bites the skin of his hand to muffle the noise he makes - he doesn’t think it’s successful enough that anyone listening won’t _know_ \- but he can’t be sure because all he is aware of at the moment is Mitch’s scent and the coolness of Mitch’s touch as he strokes Scott through it. 

Scott is far from sated, but he does feel a strange sense of peace after. He watches through hooded eyes at Mitch brings his own hand to his lips and licks off Scott’s come. He reaches for Mitch, and Mitch responds instantly, melting into the offered kiss. He’s pliant and soft, and Scott can smell his arousal, so light and sweet and inviting. The hint of Scott’s scent and taste on him makes Scott crave more.

“Get some more rest,” Scott says, dipping a hand into the back of Mitch’s pants to cup his ass. “You won’t be getting any once we’re home.” 

Scott is gratified by the way Mitch shudders helplessly against him at the words. He drifts off to sleep again quickly, despite the discomfort of come drying in his briefs.


	5. Mate

Mitch finds himself pushed up against the wall as soon as the door closes behind them. The scent of Scott’s rut is heavy in the air, so thick Mitch can nearly taste it in every gasping breath he takes. Scott’s kisses are rough, his hands restlessly touching Mitch everywhere he can reach - which is severely hampered by the way his body is pressed flush to Mitch’s. 

Mitch relaxes as his own heat spikes, making him powerless against Scott’s onslaught. Not that he would stop Scott even if he could. It’s not just his heat and instinct making him want this; his need for Scott is much deeper than that. 

Mitch is soon desperate for friction, thrusting against Scott as best as he can with a whine. Scott _growls_ in response, nipping at Mitch’s throat. His hands come down to rest on Mitch’s hips, keeping him still. Mitch relaxes into Scott’s hold, but turns his head to dodge Scott’s kisses. 

“Scott-need-want- _bed_.” It’s difficult to string a sentence together through the fever haze of his heat and Scott peppering kisses to his throat. But apparently he’s coherent enough, because next thing he knows, Scott’s pulling him in the direction of their bedrooms. 

They end up in Scott’s room, with Scott pushing Mitch down onto the bed before proceeding to help Mitch out of his clothes. He looks like he’d rather just rip them off, and Mitch is pleased that Scott still has enough wits about him to know that’s not an option. He might be dressed down, but his sweats are Vetements. 

Scott calms a little once they’re both undressed and he’s covering Mitch on the bed, pressed skin to skin in as many places as they can. His kisses are gentler and more coordinated this time, and he cups Mitch’s cheek with one hand. Mitch blinks up at him between kisses, and Scott smiles back when Mitch smiles at him. 

“I love you,” Scott murmurs, voice rough with arousal. “Promise me you’ll remember that.” 

Mitch can’t respond right away, because Scott kisses him again, chaste and gentle. “Of course, love you too.”

“No,” Scott’s tone is on the edge of whining, and he looks so intent and sincere that Mitch’s heart flutters. “ _Promise me_.”

“I promise,” Mitch says, sighing softly as Scott kisses his jaw, his throat. 

“Good,” Scott says, “because I don’t know how much control I’ll have.”

Heat surges through Mitch’s body at Scott’s words, and he arches up against him, choking out a breathless _please_. Scott grins in response, looking positively feral, and Mitch is slick already even though Scott hasn’t even touched his ass. 

“I can smell that, fuck, _Mitch_.” Scott sounds absolutely wrecked already, and Mitch feels that, reduced to a shuddering mess as Scott starts kissing his way down his body. 

Scott’s stubble scratches Mitch’s nipple when he stops to kiss it, sending a spike of pleasure through Mitch that has him arching up against Scott’s mouth. Scott makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a laugh, and does it again, purposefully rubbing his chin over Mitch’s nipples in between kisses and licks. He continues downward, keeps licking and rubbing his chin across Mitch’s oversensitized skin all the way across the plane of Mitch’s stomach - and Mitch squirms, gripping onto fistfuls of the sheet to stop himself from grabbing Scott. 

Scott moves even lower, nosing at Mitch’s cock before rubbing his cheek against it, precum smearing across his skin. He looks up and catches Mitch’s eye, and Mitch can’t look away as Scott moves his head, letting Mitch’s cock fall lower to rub over the stubble. 

It feels like little pinpricks of pain - not quite comfortable but not horrible either, and Mitch’s body jerks, unsure whether to pull away or press closer. Scott follows up with gentle kisses, does nothing else until it becomes maddening, and Mitch can’t stop himself from thrusting up against his mouth. 

“Impatient?” Scott teases, splaying a hand over Mitch’s hip, pressing him down onto the bed. 

Mitch whines in frustration, but the sound gets stuck in his throat when Scott sucks him into his mouth. Scott releases his grip on him again, letting Mitch arch up off the bed, getting two fingers into him as he does.

“Scott, fuck, Scott, _Scott_ ,” Mitch bats at Scott’s head, trembling and uncoordinated; he means to tell Scott that he’s so, so close, but he can’t find the words. 

Scott pulls away long enough to say, “I want you to come, Mitchy”, and that’s when Mitch remembers that being in true heat - being primed for mating - means Scott’ll be able to make him come more than once tonight. A fact Scott is apparently planning to take full advantage of. That thought alone, coupled with Scott’s fingers grazing his prostate, is enough to have him coming on a choked off cry. 

Mitch can feel his own slick leaking out of him now, and he tugs on Scott’s hair as he shudders through the aftershocks of his orgasm. He needs Scott _in_ him, needs Scott to claim him for real. He doesn’t get all those words out, but he does manage a breathless ‘need you’, which is enough for Scott to get the message. 

Mitch feels a surge of nerves as Scott’s body covers his again. He wants this, has waited for probably for longer than he’s realized, but it’s still momentous, moreso because Mitch has never wanted an Alpha. This is _Scott_ , though, and Mitch wants to give him everything, wants to be claimed and owned, wants the whole world to know he belongs to Scott. He’s always belonged to Scott, really, even if they have wasted all these years being stubborn and blind. 

Scott’s gentle at first, sliding into Mitch in one smooth, slow push, his way eased by how wet Mitch is. He kisses Mitch’s face as he pulls back out and pushes back in at the same maddeningly slow pace. 

“Thought you were gonna be rough,” Mitch murmurs, tugging at Scott’s bottom lip with his teeth as Scott kisses him. 

Scott’s control snaps at Mitch’s words, and he groans as he changes to a more punishing rhythm, He’s biting at Mitch’s chin, probably leaving bruises that Mitch won’t be able to cover. Mitch doesn’t mind; he wants people to see Scott’s claim, needs it in a way that feels primal and all-consuming. 

Scott’s thrusts border on brutal now, each one punching a gasp out of Mitch, and Mitch wraps his legs around Scott’s waist, locking him in, keeping him close. Mitch becomes aware of his own cock, trapped and leaking between their bodies. The friction isn’t enough, he wants more, wants Scott to wrap a hand around him and make him come again. 

Mitch can’t form the words to beg for what he needs, he’s reduced to moaning and whining in between hitched breaths. He can’t keep his hands still anymore, moves them to claw desperately at Scott’s back, and Scott grunts and shifts his angle, his thrusting deeper and hitting Mitch’s prostate. 

Mitch whines, blinking away tears, he feels so full, feels so _much_ , completely overwhelmed by Scott fucking him, Scott kissing him, and the thick scent of Scott’s rut dragged into his lungs with each shuddering breath. It’s too much, it’s almost unbearable, and yet the only word he can find is ‘more’. 

Scott makes a pained noise above him, sounding like he’s every bit as overwhelmed as Mitch is, and when Mitch blinks up at him he looks wild, his eyes so dark they are almost black. He doesn’t quite meet Mitch’s eyes, so lost in his pleasure that he doesn’t even seem to remember who Mitch is, and Mitch brings a hand up to cup his face. 

“Hey, stay with me, Scotty,” Mitch says softly, rubbing his thumb along Scott’s cheekbone. It’s long moments before Scott’s gaze finally focuses on him, and Scott’s breath hitches on something that sounds like a sob. 

“Mitch,” Scott whimpers, like it’s a plea, like he’s lost and Mitch is the only one who can save him. 

“Yes,” Mitch says, cupping Scott’s face with both hands now, pulling him down to kiss him. 

Scott doesn’t take control of the kiss and it stays gentle, a sharp contrast to the way Scott is still frantically fucking into Mitch. Mitch feels a little steadier; he can focus on the kissing and let his own desperation fade to the background. 

“Oh, _oh_ ,“ Scott breathes, his head falling forward so his forehead rests against Mitch’s. Moments later, Mitch feels the pressure increase, Scott’s dick catching on his rim with each thrust. 

“Scott, _fuck_ ,” Mitch sighs, as Scott’s movements stills until it’s just the slightest rocking of his hips. His knot is still growing, the pressure relentless now, right up against Mitch’s prostate. 

Mitch comes, but he can’t really feel it, not the way he normally does, he’s only dimly aware of the warmth and the slick between their bodies. Everything becomes too bright after, every sensation like a shock to his system, and he squirms, tries to get away from Scott’s hold on him. He thinks he’s crying, his face feels wet, but he’s not sure if it’s just sweat. 

“Shhh, easy Mitch, I got you, I got you.” Scott’s kissing him again, light pecks in between murmured words of comfort. 

“Can’t-too much-can’t-need- _hurts_ ,” Mitch whines, barely coherent, because he can’t think, can barely even breathe. 

Scott wipes at Mitch’s cheeks with trembling fingers - definitely tears, then - and he looks like he’s in pain too, as powerless and defeated as Mitch feels. He pulls one of Mitch’s arms away from his own shoulders, interlaces their fingers just beside Mitch’s head. 

“Relax, baby, just look at me, Mitch, it’s me, look at me,” Scott sounds calm, but Mitch knows him well enough to hear the worry, the frantic undertones. 

It’s a struggle to follow Scott’s direction, to let himself breathe and sink into Scott’s eyes and let everything else fall away. Scott smiles at him when their gazes meet, a little shaky but so, so fond, and it hits Mitch that this is it, they’re mated now, and suddenly it’s much easier to relax into the feeling. 

“Yes,” Scott whispers, “that’s it, I’ve got you.” 

“Yours, I’m yours,” Mitch says, cocking his head to the side to bare his neck. 

“Mine,” Scott echoes, nosing at Mitch’s neck before leaving more visible marks with his lips and teeth. 

Mitch still aches, but it’s easier to bear now, feels like a brief physical manifestation of Scott’s claim on him. He thinks he could get used to this; next time he’ll be ready, he’ll know how it feels. And they’ll definitely do it in a more comfortable position. 

He pouts up at Scott, as well as he can manage with shocks of pleasure still rushing up his spine every few seconds. “My legs are killing me.” 

Scott let’s out a strangled laugh. But then he does gingerly shift them - it’s very awkward and, yeah, not something they need to repeat - so he’s sitting upright with Mitch in his lap. Which causes his knot to press deeper into Mitch, and Mitch shudders and arches his back, moaning as Scott’s hand wraps around his dick. 

“Can you?” Scott asks, not stroking yet, waiting for permission. 

Mitch isn’t sure, but he nods anyway, lets Scott jerk him to another orgasm even though he can barely even feel it; his muscles tense and his skin prickles as he comes, but it’s not really pleasurable. He feels boneless after, so drained he can do nothing but collapse against Scott’s chest. He’s not even able to parse what Scott’s whispering to him, but it sounds comforting enough to lull him into half-slumber, with Scott still inside him. 

The next thing he’s fully aware of is Scott pulling away from him, and he manages a plaintive sound, because he definitely does not want to be alone right now. 

“Just getting a flannel to clean you up, be right back, baby,” Scott says, kissing his forehead.

Mitch almost tells him to leave it, but then he becomes aware of the feeling of come and slick dripping out of him, and yeah, it’s definitely a lot more than usual. He’s thankful when Scott returns to gently clean it off. 

“How are you feeling?” Scott asks, and he looks so soft now, not Alpha-like at all, even though he still smells like rut. This is a brief respite, Mitch knows, as mating typically lasts three to five days. Since neither of them have been through this before, there is no telling how theirs might play out.

“Calm,” Mitch replies, because it’s the first word that comes to mind. It’s not at all enough to explain the sense of contentment he feels, but he’s not sure any word is enough. He’s pretty sure Scott gets it, though, judging by his soft, pleased smile. 

“Let’s get some sleep,” Scott says. “I set the alarm so we can get some food before it gets bad again. Hopefully.” 

Scott kisses him before he tucks Mitch close to his chest. Despite the way his body still aches from the inside out, it’s not at all difficult for Mitch to fall asleep, safe and loved in the arms of _his Alpha_.


	6. Bruises

Mitch wakes on the morning of the fourth day feeling only lingering effects of his heat. He aches all over, and he feels disgusting and sticky, but above that is an overwhelming feeling of contentment. If he’d known being mated could feel like this, he definitely wouldn’t have been so scared of it. 

Scott’s apparently awake, too, because he presses a kiss to the back of Mitch’s neck when Mitch stretches. His arm is heavy around Mitch’s waist, so Mitch can’t move much, but he doesn’t mind. He settles back against Scott instead, drifting a little in the safe warmth as Scott’s fingers caress his chest. 

“I love you so much,” Scott murmurs suddenly, kissing Mitch’s shoulder. Mitch is too relaxed to manage much more than a soft hum in response, but apparently it’s enough to convey the message, because he can feel Scott’s smile against his skin as Scott kisses the top of his spine. 

Mitch fights not to fall back asleep; he could probably do with more rest after the past few days, but a shower and food is really top of his priorities right now. He’s sure Scott will be up for more cuddling in bed after. 

“Need to get up,” Mitch says once he feels awake enough to move.

Instead of letting him go, Scott tightens his grip on Mitch, nuzzling his neck. Mitch pushes ineffectually against his arm.

“I swear, I’ll pee on you if you don’t let me go.” It’s not really an empty threat, because he’s becoming increasingly aware of his bladder. 

Scott snorts behind him and drops another kiss against the nape of his neck before letting go of him. Mitch really wishes he could stay in bed with Scott forever, bodily functions be damned. 

Mitch pauses as he passes Scott’s side of the bed, so he can give Scott a proper kiss. Scott looks mussed and tired and happy and absolutely gorgeous, and Mitch still can’t believe he gets to have Scott like this every morning from now on. 

“Want me to join you?” Scott asks, reaching up to stroke Mitch’s cheek. 

Mitch considers it. It’s tempting to shower with Scott, he feels so wrung-out and sore that it would be nice to be pampered. But he also feels like he needs a breather, a few moments of space to think and process the past few days. 

He shakes his head. “If you don’t mind?” 

Scott smiles softly. “Of course not. I’ll order some breakfast.”

“Thank you. I love you,” Mitch says, giving Scott another quick peck and leaving before he can give in to the temptation to just curl up beside Scott again. 

Mitch relieves his bladder and turns on the shower before he catches sight of himself in the mirror. His chest, neck, and chin sport an intricate pattern of bruises in varying shapes and colors. When he turns around, there are bruises on his back, too. He looks ruined and owned, and he _likes it_.

He fingers the bruises, watching the way they yield as he presses down on them, until the mirror starts to fog up. He revels in the hot water as he gets into the shower, and spends a good while just standing there, letting the damp heat ease his aching muscles, before he reaches for his soap. 

Washing himself brings back memories of the past three days - his fingers find new aches and bruises on every inch of his body. Scott had been every bit as rough and mindless as Mitch had been taught his Alpha would be when they mated. There were a few moments when Scott had definitely been lost to his rut, when Mitch’s conviction that Scott would never hurt him beyond superficial scratches and bruises had almost failed. 

Scott hadn’t hurt him though. Even at the height of it, when Mitch wasn’t sure Scott even knew who Mitch was - who they were - he hadn’t pushed beyond the limits of what Mitch could take. Mitch would have been powerless to stop Scott if it became too much - he shudders at the memory of how close to the line they came, of himself writhing and sobbing and _helpless_ as Scott fucked him way past the point of real pleasure. It had felt right, though, offering himself up for Scott; even though Mitch hates being helpless, he loved it in that moment. And the second it actually became too much, when Mitch had felt an actual surge of panic, it had brought Scott back from the brink, and he had reassured Mitch with soft kisses and murmured words of love. 

Mitch feels like he could stay beneath the water for hours, except that after a while he starts to feel the pull of their bond, even though he knows Scott’s still in the next room. It doesn’t worry him - he knows it’s normal for a newly mated alpha/omega couple to need to be within touching distance for a few weeks, and that it will ease off during the coming months, to the point where they can comfortably manage to be apart for a few days. If he’s being honest, he and Scott haven’t coped well with extended separation for years now, so he can’t see the pull of the bond making a big difference. 

Scott’s waiting outside the door when Mitch leaves the bathroom, and Mitch is more than happy to accept the offered kiss. 

“Food will be here in about twenty minutes. I’m getting a quick shower,” Scott says. “I left my phone on the nightstand, you’ll keep an eye on it?” 

“Of course,” Mitch replies, angling his face up to beg for another kiss before Scott disappears. Scott obliges him with a smile. 

Mitch considers going downstairs, but it feels like too much effort. He gets his phone and sits in bed instead, resting against the headboard with the covers pulled up to his waist for warmth. 

He realizes that Scott’s posted a photo of himself in bed - he really doesn’t get Scott’s obsession with bed selfies, but then again, Scott doesn’t really get his obsession with topless ones - and among the responses about how hot he is (Mitch agrees), are many amusing theories about why they’ve both been absent since the last show. 

Scott’s back before Mitch knows it - his shower considerably shorter than Mitch’s. Mitch gets it; the separation was starting to make him feel restless and he knows it has the same effect on Scott. He might have felt a little guilty for taking so long, except Scott’s not the one who’s spent the past three days getting fucked. Mitch lost his count of how many times Scott knotted him after the sixth time - or rather, everything that happened after that is too hazy for him to remember. So he thinks he deserves to shower for as long as he wants to.

Scott pulls on a pair of sweatpants before he comes to sit beside Mitch in bed. He kisses Mitch, holding Mitch’s head still as he takes possession of his mouth as surely as he has taken his body. Scott makes a soft sound as he pulls back, and Mitch recognizes it as early arousal.

“You’re not fucking me today,” Mitch says sharply as Scott pulls away. His dick might be making a valiant effort at showing interest, but he’s too sore - even after the shower - to let Scott get the wrong idea. 

Scott laughs. “No, definitely not. Not sure I could get it up.”

Mitch raises an eyebrow at him and Scott flicks his nose, still laughing.

Scott’s phone interrupts them, and Scott goes downstairs to get their food. He comes back only minutes later, carrying a tray with two plates of food as well as two coffees and a bottle of water. 

“Drink this first,” Scott insists, pressing the water bottle into Mitch’s hands before he puts the tray down. 

Mitch does as instructed, drinking the water while watching Scott as he takes off his pants and gets back on the bed, sliding under the covers beside Mitch so their legs touch. Mitch was thirstier than he realized - unsurprisingly, after three days of a lot of sex and not much of anything else - and he’s grateful to Scott for more or less forcing water on him. 

Scott hands Mitch his coffee next. Mitch takes it, watching Scott over the rim as he takes a sip. There’s something in Scott’s expression, an emotion Mitch can’t quite place. It makes Mitch feel warm and safe. 

“Are you going to feed me as well?” Mitch says, and he means it as a joke but it doesn’t come out like that. 

Scott’s movement stills, leaving his forkful of pancakes and blueberries waiting in front of his own mouth. He watches Mitch for a few long seconds, and Mitch wants to just laugh it off, but he can’t seem to remember how to. 

Scott moves slowly as he offers the fork to Mitch instead, giving Mitch plenty of time to object. Mitch doesn’t. He opens his mouth instead, to accept the food from Scott. Scott clears his throat while Mitch chews, looking like he wants to say something but doesn’t know what to say. 

“Thank you,” Mitch says, softly, and that earns him a careful smile from Scott. 

Somehow, it feels natural for Scott to keep feeding him. Mitch knows it’s omega hormones playing up - he’s newly mated and craving pampering and affection from his Alpha. After years of fighting natural omega instincts, it’s a lot easier than he expected to accept this. He wonders fleetingly how much of it is down to how he trusts Scott to not demand more than Mitch could give him, wonders just how much power another alpha would have over him. He’s thankful not to ever have to find out. 

“Hey, what are you thinking about?” Scott asks, gently, taking a sip of his coffee.

Mitch raises an eyebrow at him. It’s the sort of question Scott usually avoids, because he knows Mitch will always talk to him when he’s ready. 

“I know, you don’t have to answer if you can’t,” Scott says hurriedly. “You just looked so sad all of a sudden,” he adds, by way of explanation.

Mitch sighs. “I just… I hate that there are so many omegas out there who will never have this. Who aren’t mated to an alpha who makes them feel safe. I feel so lucky and I want this for everyone.”

Scott blinks at him, his expression fluttering between pleased and sad. Mitch can tell Scott’s deliberating his response, so he stays silent and let’s Scott move the tray to the dresser, since they’re both done eating.

“I wish those alphas knew what they are missing,” Scott says once he’s back on the bed with Mitch. “I’ve always - all this time, I thought mating would change me. I always thought once I found a mate I’d be as aggressive and jealous as the typical alpha stereotype.”

Mitch wants to cut in about the impossibility of that ever happening, because Scott’s never been anything like a stereotypical alpha; but Scott’s worry is obviously in the past, and he can tell Scott has more to say, so he figures it’s better to not interrupt. 

“I didn’t consider that the mate could be you though. So I wasn’t that scared once that was on the table,” Scott continues, with a brief smile. “But it felt like it was happening the past few days. It was _so_ scary not being in control, feeling like I could hurt you and I wouldn’t even care as long as I got my pleasure out of it and-” Scott pauses, his voice cracking on the last words. 

“You didn’t hurt me,” Mitch reassures, pressing a kiss to Scott’s cheek. “I know you would never hurt me.” 

“I thought we had made a mistake,” Scott continues, his voice soft and unsure, as if he’s reliving the moments which inspired that doubt. “I thought- It felt like I wouldn’t be able to let you have your freedom. I was sure you’d end up hating me.”

“Scott,” Mitch says, and he can’t find any words. He wants to say he could never hate Scott - but the image Scott is painting of a scenario where Scott would stifle everything Mitch is; Mitch knows Scott is right. Mitch would have hated him and the relationship they have built since childhood would have been unsalvageable. He presses closer to Scott, distressed at the mere thought of it, and Scott obligingly wraps him in a hug. 

“I don’t feel like that now,” Scott reassures him, kissing the top of Mitch’s head. “Now I just want to keep you happy and safe, to cuddle you and feed you and just- I’m as proud of you as I’ve always been, and I want everyone to see how amazing you are.” 

Scott’s beaming as Mitch looks up at him, all that love and pride visible on his face, and Mitch is momentarily speechless. It’s overwhelming to know it’s all for him. 

“I wish all alphas let themselves feel this. To think that many young alphas are taught to ignore it; they must be as miserable as the omegas they are mated to. You know, I can’t fucking wait to speak up about how it doesn’t have to be like that.” 

Mitch hadn’t really consider what Scott’s experiences would be, that the demands of the omega rights movement could potentially make that much difference to alphas too. He’d imagined their future would be more Scott making allowances to keep Mitch happy and hadn’t considered that Scott could be an active spokesperson for their cause. 

“Did I mention how I feel so fucking lucky?” Mitch murmurs. 

“You might have,” Scott murmurs, and there’s that smugness again. Mitch pulls him down so he can kiss it right of his face. 

“We’re both lucky,” Scott affirms between kisses. 

Mitch can only agree.


	7. Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to ColourizedMadiel for listening to me rant about this chapter, and FreyaOdin for the beta. 
> 
> CW for brief violence and a mention of sexual violence in this chapter.

They stay home for the next three days, recovering from mating and just enjoying the intimacy of their newly formed bond. As the days pass, it’s no longer distressing to not be in the same room, but they stay close to each other by choice anyway. Mitch can’t remember ever feeling as fulfilled as he does just being cuddled into Scott’s side; yes sex is great, and Mitch is definitely not complaining about the prospect of getting fucked regularly, but it’s the quiet moments which remind him how special Scott is, how he has found a mate who respects him in ways he never thought possible.  
  
Mitch does notice Scott getting restless as the days pass though, and he has a pretty good idea what the problem is, even if Scott doesn’t seem to realize it himself. Mitch brings it up on the morning of the fourth day.  
  
“Hey, maybe we should invite some people over tonight? Get some drinks, actually be social for a few hours.”

Scott looks up from his phone, raising his eyebrow at Mitch. “When have you ever been the one to suggest throwing a party?”  
  
Mitch pokes him in the arm. “Not for me, Scotty. For _you_ .” He doesn’t offer any further explanation, but he hopes the pointed look he gives Scott will help him figure it out.  
  
Scott looks like he’s about to protest, but then he pauses. “Huh,” is all he says. 

“Yeah,” Mitch elaborates. “Your twitchiness is starting to make _me_ anxious.”

Scott looks sheepish. “Sorry,” he says, squeezing Mitch’s shoulder. “I like this though, just being together. I’m definitely not ready to share you.”

Mitch snorts. “Your instincts are definitely at odds with your personality, babe. You’re gonna go crazy from being all cooped up, and then what would I do?”

Scott shrugs. He looks unsure for a moment, like he has something he wants to say but doesn’t quite know how to say it. Mitch doesn’t ask - if there’s one thing he knows, it’s that Scott will always talk to him when he’s ready.

“Are you sure?” Scott asks, moving his hand to caress Mitch’s cheek. “We don’t have to have a party tonight.” Mitch appreciates his concern, but he also _knows_ Scott well enough to know it would be selfish of him to let Scott avoid socializing any longer.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he says, turning his head to kiss Scott’s fingers. “Just a few people, betas, so neither of us feel threatened. Definitely Nicole and Candice. Esther?”  
  
“Yes. And Luke?” Scott suggests.

“Really?” Mitch isn’t sure that’s a good idea, but he doesn’t know how to convince Scott without admitting things he’d rather not talk about at the moment.  
  
Scott shrugs. “Why not? I want you do have someone there you’re comfortable with. And we could maybe discuss some photoshoot ideas with him?”

“Yeah, I guess. If you’re sure. I think you’re the one who’s most likely to go all territorial here.” Mitch kisses Scott’s cheek to soften his words.

They spend a few moments discussing who to invite, before Mitch sends a group text to let them all know. He’s a little surprised that no one has other plans - but then he supposes it’s understandable that their friends would want to check in on them.

The day passes quickly. They shower - after which Mitch blows Scott and Scott decides to come all over his face so Mitch has to shower a second time. (He might spend the next hour bitching about that. Until Scott threatens to fuck him into silence.)

By the time their friends arrive, they have both had a glass of wine and Mitch is feeling relaxed and confident. People are milling in the kitchen and Scott is happily being his own social self, so Mitch finds some relative quiet in the living room. Luke joins him after a moment; Mitch notices he’s careful to keep distance between them when he sits down.  
  
“Everything okay?” Luke asks, and Mitch knows he’s not asking about tonight.  
  
“Yes,” he responds, smiling softly. “Everything is definitely very okay.”

Luke grins at him. “Good. I’m happy for you.” He pats Mitch’s leg, then freezes as he gazes toward the kitchen.  
  
Mitch follows his gaze, realizing that Scott is standing in the doorway. For a moment he feels a pang of doubt, fearing that Scott’s possessive instinct will take over, but then Scott smiles and gives them a little wave before going back to mingling with the other guests.  
  
Luke relaxes instantly, but Mitch instinctually wants to go beg for Scott’s forgiveness, even though Scott is obviously not even upset with him. Luke looks at him with concern, gently pulling him into a hug. Luke’s warmth is comforting and familiar, and Mitch manages to dismiss the instinct, cuddling into Luke’s side as the tension leaves him again.  
  
“Okay?” Luke asks, pulling back a little, obviously not comfortable with Mitch’s affection.  
  
“”Yeah,” Mitch responds, sighing softly as he sits up. “Sorry.”  
  
“Don’t be,” Luke says. He glances towards kitchen again, before he asks, “Does Scott know?”

“That we’ve fucked? No.” Mitch dips his head when Luke raises an eyebrow at him.  
  
“Oh. I thought you would have told him.”

Mitch shrugs. “I mean, he knows I’ve slept with someone. He just doesn’t know it was you. We never made a habit of sharing that information - you know how protective he was, even before. It didn’t seem like a good idea.”  
  
Luke is silent for a while, before he squeezes Mitch’s shoulder. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. And for the record, you were always pretty protective of Scott, too. I imagine it was easier not knowing?”  
  
Mitch shrugs. He’s never deluded himself about the fact that Scott does sleep around - it’s common practice for single alphas and omegas both, and as an alpha Scott’s had the luxury of not having to be as selective about his partners as Mitch has had to be. But he knows Luke is right - especially now that they’re mated, Mitch knows he would feel jealous and territorial if he knew Scott had been with any of their friends. And if he feels that, as an omega, he can’t imagine how protective Scott would feel; he might be as sweet and accepting as Mitch could ever hope for in an alpha, but instincts are difficult to control, no matter what your conscious intentions are.  
  
Luke smiles when Mitch looks up at him again, and Mitch knows he doesn’t have to say any more on the subject for Luke to get it. There’s a reason Mitch kept coming back to him, after all; he’s had other friends he felt safe with, but Luke’s always had a way of understanding things about Mitch which Mitch barely understood himself. There have been times when Mitch flirted with the idea of settling down with Luke - it’s not common for omegas to settle down with betas since they instinctively crave a bond betas can never give them, but it seemed a preferable option to being alone forever. At least Mitch knew Luke would always respect him.  
  
Luke sighs, and lifts his hand as if to touch Mitch’s cheek, before stopping himself. They’ve never discussed settling down, it was an idea Mitch never felt ready to share, but in that moment Mitch is pretty sure Luke _knows_ .  
  
“I really am happy for you, you know,” Luke says softly, glancing down at his own hand before looking back up at Mitch. “You deserve someone who will cherish you.” 

Mitch hadn’t considered that he’d want Luke’s approval - he already knew he had it; gets the feeling all their friends have been rooting for them to mate for years. But it still feels good to hear Luke say it.  
  
***  
  
Almost two hours pass, and Mitch is enjoying himself - maybe not as loudly as Scott, but definitely enjoying himself. It’s clear that their friends are checking in on him as he mingles with them, but it’s just as obvious that no one is seriously worried. They just want to make sure Scott didn’t suddenly turn into an overbearing alpha now that he has an omega to protect.  
  
Scott’s definitely acting anything but overbearing alpha. He does touch Mitch a lot as the evening progresses, but he has always been a cuddly drunk, so that’s not unusual. Mitch is happy to oblige him, and eventually they end up cuddled together on the sofa. Scott is talking animatedly to Nicole and Esther, but Mitch is not following the conversation, feeling tipsy and relaxed as he’s cuddled against Scott’s side. He does notice that Esther keeps glancing at him though, so he smiles tiredly at her.

Mitch is not at all surprised when Esther swoops in as soon as Scott goes to find more snacks and drinks. He’s sort of surprised she didn’t do so earlier in the night; she’s always been a bit of a mother hen, especially towards him. He guesses it’s only natural, while Scott might act like they’re all his pack, keeping Mitch safe while on tour is actually Esther’s literal job. And Esther displays an unusual number of alpha-traits for a beta.

Mitch cuddles up to Esther instead when she plops herself down next to him, mostly out of habit. He’s feeling languid, and sort of vulnerable in a way which makes him crave affection. Esther’s presence may not be as satisfying as Scott’s now that Scott is _his_ alpha, but it’s a good substitute until Scott comes back.

“How’s my Mitchy?” Esther asks, as conversation picks up around them.  
  
“Good,” Mitch says, “very, very good.” He winks, because he can never resist messing with her.  
  
She swats his arm as he laughs. “No sex details, please! I already know more about that than I ever cared to, thank you very much.”  
  
Mitch sobers a little, and smiles gratefully at her. “Yeah. Thank you for that, by the way.”

“Hey, it’s my job. Which I’m happy to say will be easier now that I don’t have an unmated alpha _and_ omega to keep track of.”  
  
He prods her in the side. “I know you’re happy for us. Come on, you can say it.”

She snorts. “I am. Wouldn’t even want to deny it. I’m just surprised it’s taken this long.”  
  
“Yeah,” Mitch says, leaning in and resting his head on her chest as she kisses the top of his head. “I-”  
  
He’s interrupted by a large crash followed by the sound of broken glass falling. He scrambles to sit up, but Esther moves in front of him before he even has a chance to find out what’s going on.

“Scott,” Esther says, her tone a stern warning. Mitch has managed to right himself enough now that he can see past her - see Scott storming up to them.  
  
“Get away from him. _Now_.” Scott sounds like he might actually attack her if she doesn’t move out of the way. And she doesn’t look like she’s planning on doing so.

“Esther,” Mitch pleads, but she pushes him back down when he tries to get up.

“No. Scott, you need to _calm down_.”

Mitch holds his breath. He knows he should probably say something, try to reason with Scott, but he doesn’t even know where to start because Scott’s behaviour is completely irrational. And he’s honestly scared of attracting Scott’s wrath, even if his instincts think it’s his duty to placate Scott.

The room goes deadly quiet for a moment, even as their friends move closer, ready to interfere in case things turn ugly.

Scott gives no further warning before he pushes Esther aside and grabs Mitch to pull him harshly off the couch. Their friends try to intervene, but Scott shrugs them off, and Mitch is too stunned at Scott’s behavior to even have a chance to resist.  
  
“Mine,” Scott says - or rather, _growls_ \- pulling Mitch to him. His grip on Mitch’s wrist is so rough it feels like he could actually crush his bones.

“Scott,” Mitch whimpers. He instinctually goes lax against Scott’s hold. He wants to fight, but he knows it would only make things worse, so he does what he can to try to calm Scott. There’ll be time for Mitch to make his feelings known later, once Scott is capable of rational thought again.

There’s a few seconds where Scott just blinks at him; Mitch dares to hope that that’s it, that Scott is back in control of whatever alpha instinct they unwittingly triggered. But then Scott pushes him backwards, presses him up against the wall, and his eyes are _wild_ , and Mitch desperately clutches at Scott’s arms.  
  
“Scott, _no_ ,” Mitch pleads, blinking back tears. Scott dips his head to nose at Mitch’s throat, and Mitch sees that their friends are still watching them - obviously at a loss for what to do. He doesn’t blame them. He closes his eyes though, tries to forget about them being there.

“Mine,” Scott murmurs against Mitch’s skin.

“Yes. I _am_ yours, Scott,” Mitch tries, desperately. The words feel wrong in his mouth - they are words Mitch was proud to say just days ago, but he never imagined he would have to say them to Scott out of _fear_ .  
  
Scott doesn’t respond, other than nipping at Mitch’s shoulder. Mitch knows it’s a warning for him to stay still, but he can’t help squirming against Scott’s hold as adrenalin starts to dull his omega instincts. As he does, Scott thrusts forward to to pin Mitch in place with his hips, and Mitch realizes with horror that Scott is hard.  
  
“No!” Mitch has no idea if Scott could actually be driven to hurt him; if nothing else, he knows their friends would protect him as soon as there was any sign of real danger. But their current predicament is proof that they have been too complacent about Scott’s ability to control his instincts, so he’s not going to waste any more time trying to appeal to Scott.  
  
Pushing against Scott is ineffectual, so in a last ditch attempt to free himself Mitch slaps Scott, wincing as he puts all his strength behind it. Scott whines, and then he blinks and looks at Mitch, actually _looks_ at him, and he looks every bit as scared as Mitch feels.  
  
Mitch feels a surge of fierce protectiveness, but he tamps down on it, letting Scott pull away instead of pulling him closer again. No one stops Scott from fleeing the room. That’s good, Mitch thinks, they need space for a moment. He tries to focus on that as he sinks to the floor, assaulted by a myriad of feelings and instincts he can’t even make sense of in the moment.  
  
Luke is suddenly beside him, and he gratefully lets himself be held - just held; Luke knows him better than to offer empty words of comfort. It’s definitely not okay, Mitch thinks, he doesn’t even know if it’s going to be okay again right now. He feels exhausted and heartbroken and he lets himself sob against Luke’s shoulder - lets himself be vulnerable even though he knows there are other people around.  
  
Mitch doesn’t know how long they sit like that. He gradually becomes aware of Luke’s hand rubbing his back, of the fact that Luke’s shirt is wet beneath his cheek.

“Sorry,” he sniffles, and he doesn’t mean for the wet spot on Luke’s shoulder.  
  
“Don’t be,” Luke responds. There’s a note of command in his voice - a rare occurrence, and obviously intentional. Luke pulls back a little so he can look at Mitch. “Are you hurt?”  
  
Mitch takes a moment to access his own body. His wrist still hurts, and he thinks his shoulder will bruise where Scott smacked him against the wall. Definitely nothing that needs medical attention though, so he shakes his head.  
  
Mitch looks up and realizes they are alone. The remnants of a broken bottle lay on the floor by the wall at the far end of the room.  
  
“Nicole, Candice and Esther are in the kitchen cleaning up,” Luke offers, sensing Mitch’s confusion. “Esther all but threw everyone else out.”  
  
Mitch feels a little extra grateful for Esther in that moment. He’s going to have to remember to get her something generous as a thank you for everything she’s dealt with the past few weeks.

“Where’s Scott?” Mitch asks, almost afraid to get an answer. He’s not even sure what he wants the answer to be - if he’d rather Scott have stayed so they can talk tonight or have left so he has some more time to collect his thoughts before they tackle this mess.

Luke hesitates for a moment before responding. “He locked himself in the master bath. Nicole tried to talk to him but he hasn’t said anything beyond confirming that he’s actually alive… we figured you’d react if there was a reason to break the door down.”

Luke is right, of course - mates will typically know if the other is ill or injured. He feels for the bond, just to make sure, and realizes that the anguish he is feeling isn’t all his own.  
  
“I need to talk to him,” he says, pulling out of Luke’s embrace.  
  
“Of course,” Luke says, offering a hand to help him stand. “Do you want us to stay?”  
  
Mitch hesitates. He can tell Luke would like to stay, just to make sure he is alright. It’s tempting to accept, because Mitch is still rattled by the fact that Scott came so close to really hurting him. But he knows Scott poses no danger now, so he shakes his head.

“I think it’s better if we get some time alone.”  
  
Luke nods. It’s obvious that he expected that answer. “Okay. But send me a message in an hour? Just to let us know everything is really fine.”  
  
There’s that tone again, that hint of an alpha trait to let Mitch know he won’t take no for an answer. Luke’s generally mellow, at times he could almost be mistaken for an omega, but he definitely knows how to use the dual traits of a beta to his advantage.

“I will,” Mitch responds. He knows they’ll all be worried about him. He understands. He would be feel the same if it was anyone else. They’d all been so sure of Scott, and they were obviously wrong; it’s going to take some time to get over it. “You’ll see yourselves out?”  
  
He should probably follow them to the door - that broken glass in the corner is a perfect excuse for them to stick around just long enough to satisfy their protective instincts. But he doesn’t really feel up to facing anyone else yet. And even more than that, he really wants to see Scott, to reassure himself that Scott is back to himself again, that the aggression was actually just a momentary loss of control.  
  
“I get it. I’ll make sure the girls leave without eavesdropping,” Luke grins at him. Mitch might have to get him a thank you present as well.  
  
Mitch makes his way downstairs. He hesitates before knocking - telling himself he’s just making sure Luke gets the girls to leave. But really, he’s scared - not of Scott, but of where this discussion might take them. 

He can hear Scott on the other side of the door though - obviously trying to be quiet as to not give away the fact that he is crying. He can feel Scott’s panic. And despite the events of the evening, he wants to comfort him, his own heart aching at the thought of Scott being just as scared as he is. And that fact is enough for him to find the courage to knock on the door.

 


	8. Bottom

Scott's first instinct when Mitch knocks on the bathroom door is to stay very still and quiet, heart beating in his throat. He's not ready to face Mitch yet, barely knows if he can even trust himself around Mitch any longer. He feels cornered, something he hadn't thought about when he locked himself in here, his only thoughts on finding somewhere to hide away where he wouldn't be surrounded by Mitch's scent.

Mitch knocks again. Desperation bleeds through in his voice when he speaks. "Scott? Please just let me in."

Scott is torn for a moment. He may be scared of what Mitch will say to him - he definitely doesn't expect to be forgiven - but Mitch is so clearly distressed, and he instinctively wants to comfort him.

He stands up shakily, catching sight of himself in the mirror as he does. A fresh wave of guilt assaults him as he takes in his appearance - his hair is messy, his eyes are red and puffy, and there is a bruise blooming on his left cheek. It all just serves as a reminder of how badly he has messed up.

He turns the lock quickly, before he can change his mind again. There's a pause afterward - he can practically feel Mitch's hesitation through the door - and Scott ends up retreating further into the room and sinking back onto floor.

Scott curls in on himself as Mitch opens the door. It's only partly due to fear, he also wants to signal that he's no longer a threat, so he pulls his knees up to his chest, burying his face against them as he tries to make himself as small as possible. His heart is beating so loudly that he can barely hear Mitch enter the room over the noise in his own ears.

Mitch doesn't say anything. Scott doesn't look up at him - he wants to, but he's afraid of what he might read in Mitch's eyes. The bond is no help in figuring out Mitch's feelings at the moment, it's nothing but a jumbled mix of emotions, impossible to make sense of.

Mitch moves softly, timidly, sitting down on the floor beside Scott, leaving ample space between them. It feels wrong, Scott instinctively wants to close that gap, wants to press his omega up against the wall, so he can touch him and kiss him and ascertain that Mitch is still his.

Scott stays still, tamping down on his instincts. He does raise his head to look at Mitch, and the pain in Mitch's eyes when they meet his own makes it easy to ignore any alpha urges. He knows that giving into them would likely spell the end for them. Or at least for what they have now - bonds between an alpha and an omega are not easily broken, so they would likely remain bonded even if Mitch would despise him.

Silence stretches out between them, and Scott feels like it's his duty to break it. But it's difficult to find words when no amount of apologies could possibly fix this. Mitch keeps glancing at him like he's waiting for Scott to give him answers Scott doesn't have.

Before he can second guess himself, Scott eventually blurts out "I know about Luke."

Mitch startles, and looks at Scott in confusion. "What?"

"I know you've slept with Luke," Scott clarifies, clearing his throat against the lump in it before he continues. "I was scared mating would make me possessive. I wanted to be sure I could control it." It's not something he'd planned on admitting to Mitch, but it seems important for Mitch to know now.

Mitch just looks at him for a moment, and Scott forces himself to keep meeting Mitch's searching gaze without looking away.

"How did you know?" Mitch asks, and it's not any of the questions Scott expected, but it's one he has the answer to.

"It was obvious," he admits. At the alarm that crosses Mitch's face, Scott hastens to add, "To anyone who was looking for it."

Scott's not surprised at the brief annoyance that crosses Mitch's face. The main reason he never planned to bring this up was the knowledge that Mitch would hate that Scott's been keeping tabs on him.

Scott reaches out without thinking, aborting his movement before he actually touching Mitch. "I'm sorry," he says. "I just wanted you to be safe."

Mitch is clearly hesitating for a moment, before he reaches out and takes Scott's hand. The knot in Scott's chest loosens slightly at the touch; they'll be okay, he thinks, as long as Mitch can still bear Scott's touch, they can get through this.

"You must have been jealous of Luke? I would have been," Mitch admits softly.

Scott thinks back to the moment he'd seen Luke approach Mitch. He  _had_ been jealous - his first instinct had been to stake his claim, but it had been easy to control because Luke had done everything he could to signal to Scott that he was no threat.

"I was," Scott admits, and Mitch squeezes his hand. "Luke obviously knows how to handle a possessive alpha." It's not surprising, when Scott thinks about it; Luke has done a whole series of portraits of omegas, most of whom were mated. He's definitely had plenty of practice.

"Oh," Mitch says. Scott can see the exact moment, seconds later, when Mitch puts two and two together and realizes where everything went wrong. "I'm so-" he starts, but Scott interrupts him. 

"Please don't. Don't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault." Scott reaches out with his free hand - his other one still firmly grasped in Mitch's - and when Mitch doesn't make any sign of discomfort he gently strokes Mitch's cheek.

"It was though," Mitch says; when Scott tries to protest again he holds a hand up to stop him. " _No_. It was at least partly my fault. I didn't even consider that you might see Esther as a threat. And I should have."

Scott wants to argue that point. Hewas the one who lost control, after all, and he doesn't want Mitch to carry any guilt about that. But at the same time, he knows Mitch is right. Instinctually, it  _is_ Mitch's place to remain loyal, to be good, to not anger his alpha. That's not going to change no matter what rules they make up about their relationship; and Mitch doesn't need Scott to absolve his guilt, but to reassure him that he is loved in spite of it.

"We were both naive," Scott concedes; at the very least he's not going to let Mitch take all the blame. He scoots a little closer to Mitch, and when Mitch leans against him, he wraps his arms around him to hold him close. He relaxes when Mitch hugs him back, feels himself breathe easier as his body fills with the kind of contentment only a mate's touch can bring.

"I'm sorry," Scott murmurs, and the words feel less empty now. "I will do better. I promise."

Mitch tilts his head so he can look up at Scott. He reaches up to run his fingers through Scott's hair, down the back of his neck, coming to rest against his nape. Scott shudders at the touch, the instinct to reclaim Mitch assaulting him again now that his emotions are calmer - but he suppresses it, letting Mitch set the pace.

"Me too," Mitch says softly. "It wasn't fair of me to expect to mate and not have to change at all." He pulls Scott down for a kiss before Scott has a chance to argue.

Scott lets Mitch control the kiss, running his own hands gently up and down Mitch's back, while Mitch keeps one hand at the back of Scott's neck and clutches at Scott's arm with the other. He's not giving up control only for Mitch's sake - he needs to do it, needs that proof that he can win out over his instincts.

They kiss for a long while, the kisses growing increasingly heated as their hands roam. Mitch ends up stradling Scott, and Scott struggles to remain pliant as his own arousal grows, as his blood thrums with the knowledge that Mitch is _his_.

Mitch pulls away a little, breathing just as heavily as Scott, his pupils blown and his lips swollen. He brings a hand up to Scott's cheek, and it stings a little when he presses his fingers against bruised skin. Anxiety flitters across his face, and Scott can guess what he's thinking of. He brings his own hand up to clasp Mitch's, pulling it down to his lips so he can kiss Mitch's palm.

"I want you to fuck me," Scott says, his voice hoarse.

Mitch just blinks at him for a moment, as if he's not even processing what Scott's saying. Scott can't blame him - it's an unusual request for an alpha to make, especially from their omega. But Scott is positive it's what they both need at the moment.

"I- are you sure? You don't-" Mitch trails off, but Scott can fill out the rest of that sentence just fine. He rolls his hips, letting his hard cock grind against Mitch's ass, and his heart breaks a little at the way Mitch tenses, his face betraying his unease.

"Yes," Scott says. When Mitch looks like he's about to protest, Scott adds, "Not just for you, Mitch." He doesn't say anything else, but he can tell from Mitch's face that Mitch gets it.

"Okay," Mitch breathes. "Okay, but not here."

It takes a few seconds for Scott to remember that they are still on the bathroom floor. He let's Mitch help him to his feet, swaying a little as he stands. Mitch steadies him, one hand securely around Scott's waist as they leave the room. Scott avoids looking at the mirror this time, his eyes trained on Mitch's face instead.

Mitch kisses him again as soon as they are in the bedroom, before he starts working on the buttons on Scott's shirt. His hands are shaking a little, but his gaze is confident when he meets Scott's eyes. Scott smiles at him, and Mitch smiles back when Scott slips his hands under the hem of Mitch's shirt.

Scott lets Mitch push his shirt off first, before helping Mitch out of his. He lets Mitch push him backwards until he falls back against the bed , and Mitch wastes no time in climbing on top of Scott, peppering his chest and neck with kisses.

Scott runs his hands up and down Mitch's sides, making Mitch squirm a little before he remembers how ticklish Mitch is. Mitch bites down on one of his nipples - definitely retaliation - worrying it with his teeth as Scott gasps and arches up against him, the slight pain sending arousal shooting straight for Scott's cock.

Scott lets Mitch pull the rest of his clothing off next, shivering a little as he lies back on the bed at Mitch's direction. He reaches for Mitch's belt, eager to have him naked too, but Mitch swats his hands away. Scott pouts at him, but it doesn't stop Mitch from stradling Scott, grinding his own jeans-clad crotch against Scott's naked one.

Scott moans helplessly at the sensation, it's so close to pain, the fabric rough against sensitive skin. He reaches out instinctively to stop Mitch, to take back control, but he checks himself and his hands fall to Mitch's thighs, just resting there.

"Okay?" Mitch breathes, and when Scott looks up at him he gasps at the intensity in Mitch's gaze. He looks powerful, even dominant - not in the overbearing way of an alpha, but more confident, sexual, as if he's well aware he doesn't need raw strength to take control. Scott nods silently, realizing Mitch is waiting for a response but unable to find words, and Mitch's lips curl into a soft smile.

Scott squirms as Mitch keeps grinding down against him, he's assaulted by conflicting emotions - the alpha part of him doesn't like being pinned down, or the feral way his omega is looking at him. But  _he_ likes it, craves it, needs to know that Mitch has that control, that Mitch is never going to be cowed by him even if he does lose control of his instincts.

Scott's whining by the time Mitch pauses to strip out of the rest of his clothes. Scott doesn't attempt to help this time, just watches, anticipation spreading throughout his body once Mitch is undressed.

"I have lube," Scott murmurs, waving a hand in the direction of his nightstand, suddenly remembering that there will be no natural lubrication easing Mitch's way. Mitch nods wordlessly, turning around to open the drawer and find the bottle.

Scott spreads his legs wider when Mitch turns back to him, inviting. Mitch hesitates for a moment, one hand reaching out to rub circles into Scott's thigh. "You're sure?" he asks, his stance losing some of the earlier confidence.

"Absolutely," Scott answers. His alpha instincts may still be putting up some resistance at his position, but it's easy to dismiss, want and arousal quieting it to nothing more than a din at the back of his mind.

"I-" Mitch starts, licking his lips. "I've never-" he looks at Scott imploringly, and Scott gets it. Of course Mitch hasn't topped anyone before, it would be incredibly rare for an omega. That knowledge just adds to Scott's arousal, and his conviction that they both need this.

"It's okay," Scott says, reaching up to caress Mitch's chest. "Just be careful."

Scott  _has_ bottomed before, but it was before he presented. He didn't enjoy it then, remembers it being uncomfortable, and a little painful. In retrospect, his discomfort should have been a big hint about alpha traits. Back then, he'd just put it down to incompatibility with his partner. Now, offering himself up to Mitch, he's pretty sure that played a big part, too - he doesn't feel any unease as he imagines Mitch taking him. He trusts Mitch, loves Mitch, wants to belong to Mitch just as surely as Mitch belongs to him.

Scott watches as Mitch uncaps the lube, spreading a generous amount over his fingers, glancing up at Scott again before circling his hole with a slick digit. Pleasure shoots up Scott's spine at the touch, and he shudders at the sensation, a soft whine escaping his lips.

"You really want this," Mitch says, and it's a statement, not a question, but Scott can't help but respond with a breathy " _yes_ ".

"Need it," Scott mumbles as Mitch pushes the tip of his finger in, his free hand pressing down on Scott's left thigh when Scott tries to thrust up to meet the intrusion.

"Easy," Mitch says softly, rubbing Scott's skin with his thumb. "Don't want to hurt you."

There's a moment when Scott almost wishes Mitch would be more careless - when his alpha's need to fight almost overcomes his own determination. But then he meets Mitch's gaze, and he looks so calm and sure, and Scott's filled certainty that in this moment, he can trust his omega to care for him.

"I love you," Scott chokes out, just as Mitch pushes in the tip of a second finger beside the first. He knows it's an odd moment for declarations of love, but he feels so open, so vulnerable, and he just needs the words to be out there.

"I know," Mitch responds, his eyes focused on where he is scissoring his fingers to stretch Scott. He doesn't say it back, but Scott doesn't need him to - he never doubted Mitch's love, what he needs is to be sure Mitch isn't doubting his, despite his loss of control.

Scott arches his back as best as he can as Mitch opens him up - Mitch is still holding him down with one hand, but at this stage it's more a reminder to be careful than a real attempt at keeping Scott still. The sensation of being stretched is unfamiliar, but not bad, and then Mitch's fingers find his prostate, again and again, and Scott can no longer focus on anything but the pleasure pooling in his gut and his cock.

Scott doesn't beg, not with words, there is still enough conscious alpha in him to resist that. His body can plead though, his legs opening even wider, his hips thrusting up to meet Mitch's fingers as he gasps for air.

Mitch hums above him, just a soft sound which might be contemplation, or might be meant to soothe Scott. He pulls his hand free, and it's not long at all before his cock is pressing against Scott's hole instead, pausing just before breeching him.

"Ready?" Mitch asks, reaching for one of Scott's hands again, clasping it tight.

"Yeah," Scott responds, more a gasp than a word, and then Mitch pushes into him, and all he can do is clutch Mitch's hand as his eyes fall closed.

There's a moment of discomfort - not pain - his body protesting the intrusion, his instincts railing up again, urging him to fight, to flee. He tenses with it, and then it does hurt a little, and Mitch holds still, squeezing Scott's hand.

"Scott? Scott, look at me, it's just me..." Mitch murmurs, taking Scott's cock in his free hand, jerking is slowly, a counterpoint to the burning stretch in his ass.

Scott blinks his eyes open, and Mitch holds his gaze - he still looks calm, in charge,  _powerful_. Scott relaxes again, adjusting to the feeling of Mitch inside him, thrusting up to encourage Mitch to go on once the panic leaves him.

Mitch is soon fucking him with slow, deep thrusts and it feels...  _good_. Better than Scott expected. There's no pain now, just a slight burn with each slick glide of Mitch inside him, more pleasurable than anything else. Mitch's cock brushes his prostate intermittently, sending a jolt of pleasure up Scott's spine each time, his skin tingling with the sensation.

Scott becomes increasingly aware of his own building arousal as the discomfort fades; Mitch is still jerking him leisurely, in time with his thrusts. It's not quite enough for Scott to orgasm, keeping him right on the edge, and the look on Mitch's face tells Scott he is well aware what he is doing.

It's a challenge, Scott realizes. Mitch wants to know if Scott will beg. He's not sure which outcome Mitch is hoping for - he might beg for Mitch, if Mitch really wants him to, but perhaps this is just his omega instinctually testing the strength of his alpha.

"Mitch..." Scott murmurs, and it's neither a plea or a demand, just a soft sigh of acceptance. Mitch smiles softly at him, letting go of Scott's cock to play with a nipple instead, still fucking him at the same leisurely pace.

Scott writhes as Mitch relentlessly rubs and pinches his nipples, his eyes never leaving Scott's face, watching his every reaction. His breath starts coming in short gasps, his body taut as Mitch keeps him right on the edge, not letting him tumble over it.

Scott realizes belatedly that his hands are free and he can touch himself. He reaches his right hand for his cock, manages a few quick strokes before Mitch wraps a hand over Scott's, forcing him to slow down.

" _Please_ ," Scott chokes out, as his orgasm recedes just out of reach again.

"There you go," Mitch murmurs, and Scott recognizes that it wasn't about what Mitch wanted at all, but a way for Mitch to demonstrate that they can overcome Scott's instincts together.

"Please," Scott says again, and again, like a prayer, like it's the only word he remembers at that moment.

Mitch shushes him gently, and speeds up both his thrusts and their hands, not enough to be rough, just enough to let Scott chase his release. Mitch keeps fucking him through it, his thrusts a bit rougher once Scott has come, until Mitch finds his own release, slumping forward to kiss Scott as he does.

Scott wraps his arms around Mitch when Mitch tries to move off him, holding him close and kissing his hair. He's not ready to let go of Mitch yet - despite the uncomfortable position and the stickiness of his come drying between them.

Mitch sighs, but doesn't resist, turning his head so he can kiss Scott's jaw. They just lie like that for a moment, and Scott feels contentment settle over him as he buries his nose against Mitch's hair and breathes in his omega's scent.

It's getting chilly though, and eventually he has to regretfully let Mitch up. He doesn't know if he has enough energy left to move, feeling completely drained - not at all surprisingly considering the turmoil of emotions he's been through in the last couple of hours.

"I'll be right back," Mitch says softly, his finger skimming over the bruise on Scott's cheek again. Scott turns his head so he can kiss Mitch's fingers.

"It's okay," he says, an answer both to Mitch leaving - only for a moment - and the regret in Mitch's eyes.

Mitch returns moments later with two glasses of water and a washcloth. He makes Scott sit up and hands him the glass. Scott drinks gratefully, he hadn't even realized how thirsty he was, while Mitch uses the damp cloth to clean Scott up.

It's not until they're laying down again, Mitch safely snuggled in Scott's arms under the covers, that remembers Mitch earlier words. "I don't want you to change," he mumbles, so tired that he's finding it difficult to form words.

Mitch pats his arm. "We'll talk tomorrow. Sleep first."

Scott's too exhausted to argue, so he follows Mitch's direction, and sleeps.


End file.
